Destiny's Call
by Athena Linborn
Summary: Upon finding out his mate’s identity, partveela Blaise Zabini sets out to court and claim her. Ginny Weasley, however, has other plans, and being mated for life to a man she barely knows or likes, is not one of them!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All recognisable characters are the property of J K Rowling. The plot and all other characters however are the creation of myself and various friends.

Authors Note: I am writing this story with help from friends. All suggestions and ideas are more than welcome, as the first part is set in a location of which I have no personal knowledge. Please let me know what you think. The story is set a few years after book 6 – Enjoy!

Chapter One

It was siesta time on the island of Ethosa. The inhabitants were retreating into their cool houses, closing the shutters in order to block out the strong mid afternoon sunlight. For the next two hours, the island's wide sandy beaches and cafes would be deserted as the hot Caribbean sun beat down, scorching and merciless. Even animals would slide into their burrows to rest, or slink into the trees on the mounting slopes to the north to find some shade.

The imposing white-washed bungalow, set in luscious tropical green foliage to the east side of the island, appeared cool and unruffled by the intense heat. The latticed shutters were all closed and the building exuded an air of tranquillity as the sun blazed down on it.

A handsome dark man stood in his spacious sitting room, staring with unseeing eyes out of the window, at the Southern side of the house. It was less than twelve hours until his twenty-fourth birthday and he wished that the clock would hurry up and tick away the hours.

Blaise Zabini had waited for this day longer than he cared to remember, as tomorrow he would, all being well, find out, after years of waiting, the identity of his mate. Mulling for what felt like the thousandth time over what was to come, he gazed around the airy room, feeling restless. How would he survive until later on, when he could, at last, begin the highly anticipated process of searching for her?

He wondered what she would look like, whether she would be fair skinned or dark in colour. Either way it did not seem to matter that much, he just needed to know exactly who she was and soon at that! He had been wondering about her ever since he could remember; a part of his mind forever conjuring up images of luscious young women he had seen in magazines or worked with and a few with whom he had been to school, though there would always be something missing and he would discard such feelings, hopelessness welling up inside his being.

He sighed to himself, imagining a beautiful young woman lying sprawled out and naked on his huge king-sized bed while he kissed every inch of her soft skin. He would make her forget everything, even her own name as he pleasured her again and again! He simply could not wait to discover her, though.

Restlessly, he moved to stand before a small glass case, in which stood a bottle of shimmering liquid. Taking it down from the shelf, he turned the small vial of liquid between his fingers and saw it dance and sparkle in the light as though composed of a thousand tiny stars. It reminded him of the Felix Felicis potion he had once seen at Hogwarts. This was, if possible, even brighter in colour than that had been and more gas-like in substance. The potion had required the best part of a year to brew and he had lost count of the number of hours he had spent labouring over the steaming cauldron in his private potions lab, meticulously adding ingredients, one of which was a drop of his own blood.

Tonight, he would drink this liquid and for the first time, he'd be free to search for his mate amidst the myriad of unclaimed females out there. He wondered how it would feel to be under the influence of this potion as he projected himself out of his own body into the world. He had of course mastered Transcendental Projection for ages now, his body and mind well used to the mental and physical exercises and agility needed to reach this state, which for those not naturally gifted in this area took years to refine. He regularly spent hours at night floating around the island and beyond in his transcendental state. This however would be different from those times; special, more challenging and even risky.

The sound of a knock brought him out of his musings, causing him to automatically call, "Enter!" whilst replacing the precious vial of potion back into its glass case.

The door was pushed open and Adriana Zabini glided into the room. Tall and slim, she possessed a lithe figure which was the envy of other witches, old and young. Her skin, still smooth and unlined, was darker than his own, her complexion a rich chocolate colour which contrasted magnificently with her bright green eyes. She smiled at him, revealing two rows of perfect white teeth.

"Blaise, how did I know you would not be sleeping?" she asked, in a low faintly accented voice, approaching him and gently tugging at his arm. "There is someone waiting for you by the indoor bowling alley, which you have not yet made use of!"

She was steering him towards the door as she carried on, "Go and join him. It will not do you any good to dwell on this evening more than needs be."

"Mother," he sighed, yanking out of her grip and walking down the corridor. "Honestly, this isn't a good time."

"Nonsense, it will do you good to talk to someone. See who it is. I'll join you shortly."

Blaise scowled to himself as he walked along, wondering who would want to visit during the hottest part of the day. Pushing open the heavy door of the room which had been converted, he saw Theodore Nott standing by one of the windows looking out. Theodore was holidaying on the island, but why he had chosen today of all days to visit, was beyond Blaise.

"Theodore, my man." He said, clapping him on the back in greeting.

"Blaise! You look like shit today." Theodore remarked, looking at the bags under his friend's eyes as he twirled one of the light-weight balls in his hand. "You'd think that a part-veela would look astonishingly attractive at all times. Clearly that's not the case."

"I hardly slept last night man," came the grave reply. "You wouldn't either, if you were close to discovering the person you're destined to spend the rest of your life with."

"Very true," Theodore frowned solemnly. "What time do you plan to take the potion?"

"After sundown. It's the best time according to the family records."

"Blimey, I still can't believe it you know," Theodore commented. "All these years you've waited for this day and now it's finally here."

Blaise laughed shortly. "Yeah, it's incredible." Then his veneer of calm cracking, he burst out, "What if it doesn't work and I can't find her? What am I supposed to do then?"

"We both know the chances of that are not worth considering so there is no need to worry."

They turned towards the speaker. At the sight of Adriana, Theodore focused a hypnotized gaze on her. Blaise would never become accustomed to Theodore ogling his mother as though she'd stepped out of a highly erotic dream, so he pinched his friend. Adriana smirked.

"Your earrings are very becoming on you, Madam," Theodore covered up hastily, positioning himself beside a bowling platform and raising the ball. "Amy's birthday is forthcoming and I'd like to purchase her a pair."

"I designed these myself and had them made by Damien Rozenski. I doubt you could afford them, precious," Came the condescending response.

Blaise wasn't sure, but for a split second he thought his friend had muttered, "Well if I'd murdered seven rich husbands, I'd be able to afford a million Damien Rozenskis." But he assumed that he'd heard wrong, for the ball rolling along the platform and causing a loud strike had drowned Theodore's voice.

"Very good," Adriana smirked. "Let's see you do that with a heavier ball now, shall we?"

"Mother!" Blaise said irritably. "Focus please!"

"Oh, right." His mother smiled at him and sat down on a large chair facing the platform. "What was I saying? Oh yes, you have done everything that the Zabini records say and more. By this time tomorrow, you will be making plans to woo the girl and it will all be over. Being jumpy and uptight will only serve to cloud your mind, and that is something you cannot afford."

Blaise already knew this of course, having heard it all before from infinite conversations and study, but the niggling doubt that had been eating away at him during the last few weeks persisted. Running agitated fingers through his own silky black hair, he knew that he was not normally one to leave anything to chance, preferring instead to plan things to the last detail to ensure that nothing went wrong. It was one of the things that made him such a force to be reckoned with during his school days as well as a formidable businessman.

"You're right," he conceded exasperatedly, absently watching his friend rifling through the bar and fishing out a bottle of wine, "but I find it difficult to leave the biggest deal of my life to chance. What if it goes wrong in some way or other and I start flagging before I get there? It's not unheard of and the girl may live at the North Pole for all I know."

"The potion has been strengthened so that does not occur, the records say so. You are not leaving it to chance. Your mate was determined at birth; all the potion will do is guide you to her, that is all. It will be a simple matter and before you know it, you will have found her. Personally, I will be glad when you have. Then you can go back to being yourself and not this uncertain and dithery individual you have become." His mother gave him an encouraging smile.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," he grumbled with a mock-scowl. "Remind me not to ask you to speak at my funeral."

Adriana's expression tensed at these words. "Do not joke about things like that," she responded in a nervous voice, the fingers of one hand plucking at the upholstery of the chair. "You do not know what you may be tempting." Her gaze turned to the bar and she called, "Nott, pour me a glass of wine."

"Make that two." Blaise said, cracking his knuckles. "And step on it!"

Theodore stared at him, a confused look on his face. "Step on it?" He asked, standing still whilst gripping the tray on which stood the glasses.

"I don't mean it literally, dolt. It's a muggle expression for 'make it quick.' If I had known that your stupidity would only further delay this, I wouldn't have said that."

Theodore scowled. "I'm not a house-elf, so kindly don't address me in that tone."

Adriana ignored this, saying instead, "Blaise, Please do not use such muggle expressions, they are so uncouth."

Blaise scowled. "So what? The world hasn't ended because I've used a muggle expression you know!"

"Whoa! Take it easy," Theodore placated, setting the tray on a near-by stool within their reach. "As you were saying, it'll be interesting to see who your mate is." He pulled up a third chair and seated himself.

"Yes, now that you mention it," Blaise frowned, handing his mother a glass, "I wonder what she'll be like, dark, fair or what?"

Adriana shook her head at this obsession. "Zabini men have always had a talent for choosing pretty women, only the best will do for you lot and you are not afraid to travel the world for it. Why, I do not believe there's one nationality that has not been represented at some point or another throughout the last few centuries. All have been beautiful women and very magical as well." She glanced at herself in a gilded mirror to emphasise her point.

"You always got the best of the bunch at school," Theodore chipped in. "It was maddening how all you needed to do was crook a finger and they'd come running."

"Not all of them," Blaise grumbled, his mind conjuring up a few luscious beauties in the other houses who had not dained to look at him because he had been in Slytherin.

"Those who didn't were the only ones with any common sense," his friend smirked.

"As long as she's good looking and fun to be with, I won't mind," Blaise declared. "Oh yeah, she has to be able to play a decent game of Quidditch as well."

His mother and Theodore both laughed out loud at this.

"A tall order, my man." His friend grinned, lightly punching him on the shoulder. "Decent looking female Quidditch players are hard to come by; I haven't yet heard of such a woman myself, and I should know. You can't have both things I fear; it's either talent or good looks, take your pick."

"I can dream, people. Don't deprive me of that at least. Still, I wonder whether she'll be dark or fair, or tall or short. What colour hair do you think she'll have?"

Adriana got to her feet and moved with purpose towards the door. "I do not know and would hate to guess. Now, are you ready for tonight?"

Clearly, she was intent on making an exit before he could launch into his favourite topic of conversation, speculation on his mate's attributes.

"As ready as I'll ever be." He replied, "The potion looks the way it should and I've spent the morning pigging out on high carbohydrate foods."

"Good, you will need all the energy you can get. A dose of Pepper-up potion probably will not go amiss either, just in case."

He grimaced. "Maybe, I'll see how I'm feeling this evening."

As soon as she'd shut the door behind her, he turned his attention to his friend.

"All this talking makes me feel like some serious shooting. Are you ready for a one-on-one round of bowling? And I mean with the heavy balls."

XoXoXoXo

A cool breeze wafted in from the calm sea, fanning across the island with caressing fingers. Blaise looked out of his bedroom window enjoying the feel of the refreshing wind on his face. Darkness was falling swiftly over the island and lights were appearing in houses and restaurants. It would soon be time.

He glanced once more across the grounds of his home and smiled. This was the place that he loved to be best. This tiny all-wizarding Island in the Caribbean was, in his opinion, the perfect spot; quiet and tranquil. He only hoped that his mate would agree with him.

Turning away from the view of palm trees and white sand, illuminated by the lights that had come on in the gardens, he made his way to his bathroom and took a shower – it was time to prepare. He took the vial of gold liquid from its case in the sitting room and examined it as he prepared for bed, while maintaining a cautious grip on the vial. This had to work, it just had to. If he didn't find his mate, or became tired on the journey, the consequences for him would not be good.

Taking a deep breath, he slipped beneath the cool sheets, forcing his mind into the familiar ritual of relaxation. He started to breathe evenly, in through his nose and out through his mouth while at the same time, flexing first his fingers and toes, then his arms and legs. Soon his body had loosened up and the oxygen had been evenly distributed through it. Lying back, he began to concentrate on his diaphragm, inhaling and exhaling in measured breaths as his conscious mind began to slowly but surely close down. He clutched the small vial of potion, remembering to swallow it at the right moment by tipping the container down and gulping the tasteless liquid. Had he not done so, the whole exercise would have been futile.

His mind was becoming still and calm, induced by the rhythmic breathing pattern he was undertaking. A feeling of weightlessness was finally starting to overcome him. He could feel himself solidifying within his own mind, a form within himself as he prepared to exit his own body which was now lying still and inert beneath the sheets.

He felt himself start to rise, weightless and gloriously free. He looked down at his form and smirked a smirk that would do Draco Malfoy credit. How he loved this feeling of floating unchecked wherever he wanted to go. It was better than anything in the world, even flying. Of course, most wizards never achieved this blissful state of transcendentality, being far too deeply rooted to earth. The fools, they had no idea what they were missing and the possibilities this experience could open up.

Moving across the room, he hovered by the open window, wondering where he should go next. Then something happened that had never happened before. He felt himself drawn forward but not of his own volition. He blinked, unsure what was happening and then he remembered. The potion must be kicking in and executing its main purpose. He let himself be guided by a force of which he had no knowledge and soon he felt himself jolted sideways, almost like apparition, but not quite. He must have moved some considerable distance, across miles he could never have crossed so rapidly on his own steam. He had read about this phenomenon in the family records, and now understood why so much preparation was needed before the tracing of his mate could be attempted.

He looked up and saw that the moon was out, shining down on a patchwork of forests and mountains. He was also starting to understand what the family had meant when they said a person could become overtired during the journey to their mate and therefore not make it. That sideways jolt had really taken it out of him and he wished that he had taken that dose of pepper-up potion that his mother had suggested he take.

Once again, he felt himself jerked sideways as he was forced in a matter of seconds, across thousands of more miles. He hoped that he would be able to make it to his mate without difficulty as already energy was draining out of him as weakness engulfed him. He thought frantically that it would not be the first time that a Zabini did not survive the journey to find his mate, but the last death had been over two hundred years ago since which time, the potion had been enhanced and modified so that it would prevent this.

Blaise comforted himself with this fact but it didn't seem to be having much of an impact as again, he was jerked in a sideways motion. He could feel his body or what there was of it losing so much strength that he nervously glanced at himself, noticing that he was becoming translucent – a bad sign. Then he glanced at his surroundings and saw that he was travelling over fields and trees. Where he was, he had no idea. What he did know though was that he was cold and that his hands and feet were becoming numb, so that he was finding it difficult to feel his fingers and toes.

He was pulled inexorably forward, over what looked like a city, alive with bright lights and tiny people who looked no bigger than ants. Then he was moving across a motorway, the cars below him streaming past. He realised with a jolt that he was steadily slowing down. That must surely mean that he was close to the place! He willed himself to stay awake and hold on; it could not be too much longer now until he had found her. He felt another slight jerk and then felt the world around him shift as he was transported another few hundred miles. He had to hold on, for his sake and that of anyone else he could think of, he had to!

He forced his eyes open as he was pulled forward, determined to get through this journey in one piece. The world seemed to be coming closer to him and he wondered whether he was dying. If that were the case then it wasn't too bad. What the now-perished Lord Voldemort had been moaning about all along was beyond him. The fuzziness that was closing in on him was a welcome change from the cold and exhaustion he had previously been feeling. He was now sliding through an open window while frowning as he became aware that the wind was no longer whistling through him in increasingly piercing shafts. There was silence all around him and he wondered where he was. He lay still for a moment as his freezing and exhausted body regained its senses.

Then another scent, sweet and intoxicating, began filtering through his apathy and he felt himself twitch as though in recognition. The scent was the most wonderful he had ever smelled; naturally sweet and flowery with undertones of sensuality and freshness. It had been one of the smells given off by the love potion Amortentia that he had come across quite a few times before. He breathed the scent in; unable to get enough of it.

Where exactly was it coming from though? Dazedly, he lifted his head and stared around him in the dark.

He seemed to be in a medium-sized room, the shapes and texture of furniture were looming as he pulled himself into a sitting position but none was distinguishable. Feeling was starting to creep back into his frozen fingers and toes and he flexed them, eyes still trying to probe the dark for some clue as to his whereabouts.

A sound made him start with surprise as he stared. It wasn't loud but someone had turned over. He was sure he had heard the crack of bedsprings as the occupant of the bed briefly wriggled in their sleep. That must mean that he was in a bedroom but whose?

Excitement gripped him and forgetting the pins and needles shooting through his fingers and toes, he moved over to the bed, hovering above it and peering down. He could distinguish a lump under the duvet but nothing more. Whoever she was had pulled the bed-coverings over her head. He certainly hoped the figure was female. Now all he had to do was remove the wretched restricting barrier to see who was beneath, something that would not have been too difficult had he not been so tired. He was, however, in no doubt that this person curled up beneath the sheets, was his mate. Every sense was drawn to her, he had reached cloud nine!

He wondered if he could burrow beneath the bedclothes, maybe curl up beside her and let her warmth envelop him. Moving to the edge of the bed, he slid with difficulty beneath the large duvet and inched his way towards the figure lying curled on its side in the centre, deeply asleep. Soon he could feel the warmth emanating from her and all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms and never let her go. Now he was lying beside her but because of his transcendentalised state, could not touch her nor feel her flesh against his.

It was pitch black beneath the sheets and he began to doubt the wisdom of crawling beneath the bedclothes with her. It may have been more sensible to remain on the bed, but that way he would not be able to enjoy her proximity or her amazing warmth. He breathed in great lungfuls of her scent, opening his mouth so that he could almost taste it. How he wished he was in his solid form right now. He would cover her body with his, tasting and kissing every inch of her skin while she writhed and moaned beneath him, begging him for more.

He blinked, wondering what to do. At least he had found her, now all he had to do was see what she looked like. Then he could project himself back to his own body, a simple task requiring little energy and begin carrying out his plans to woo her. Right now though, he was stuck beneath the bedclothes with no way of telling what his mate looked like, how infuriating could life get?

He pushed against the heavy duvet but it didn't budge. In this form, he was little more than a shadow, existing but not quite real as he tried to let a chink of light into the cocoon he and his mate were occupying. Normally, he would have been able to use wandless magic to accomplish this; although he was not especially skilled in the art, he was proficient enough to perform simple spells, but right now he was too tired to do so.

He cursed to himself as she shifted beside him. This was probably the most frustrating dilemma he had yet found himself in and he could think of no way around it other than waiting for his strength to return. Without this, how could he get himself out of this mess? Six years he had waited to find out who she was and now even though he was lying beside her, he didn't know. Some deity out there must be having a real laugh at his expense.

The woman beside him moved yet again, her sleep obviously restless as she tossed and turned, seemingly in the grip of a nightmare. Blaise wondered what she was dreaming about, as she let out a stifled moan before burying her face in the pillow. He longed to comfort her so that her sleep would remain nightmare free. Then to his immense relief, she kicked off the duvet and moonlight was streaming down on them making him blink. He screwed his eyes up in an effort to adjust to the brightness of the light.

He lay for a moment, franticly trying to focus on the woman beside him, but because his eyes had become accustomed to the darkness, everything was a blur of colour. Cursing them, the moonlight and anything that happened to slip into his mind, he finally managed to make out her form. Sitting up to gaze down at her, he hardly dared to breathe.

She was lying on her side facing him, curled up with her knees tucked under her chin. One arm was pillowing her cheek while the other rested on the bed beside her. His eyes moved to her face and he felt his jaw drop in astonishment as he recognized her.

Only one woman he had ever come across had that breathtakingly long, flaming, straight red hair and flawless skin so pale that it seemed to glow in the moonlight. She was as tiny as ever, her pyjamas outlining the luscious curves of her body. Her face had changed little since he'd last seen her. Her complexion appeared lighter in tone, but other than that, she was as fresh-faced as she had been seven years ago when miserably, he had boarded the Hogwarts Express at the end of his sixth year. He felt a smile of pure satisfaction tug at his mouth as he looked down into the sleeping face of a woman whom he had wanted for most of his Hogwarts years but who, through circumstance, had been unavailable to him until now. She was none other than the spirited, gorgeous, talented and all that was commendable, Ginny Weasley!

XoXoXoXo

Blaise lay back in the luxurious warmth of his bed, savouring the feeling of being alive, healthy and above all, satisfied. Opening his eyes, he saw that a house-elf was standing at the foot of his bed, gazing at him.

"Master is awake?" it squeaked bowing.

"Yes." Blaise yawned and sat up in bed, feeling extremely happy. "Could you get me some breakfast, Tibby? Some rolls, yoghurt and some fruit will do. Oh, and inform Mother that I wish for a word with her." He felt so exhilarated that all he could do was grin broadly.

No doubt his mother hadn't had much sleep the night before and he was anxious to assure her that all was well. He was surprised that she wasn't sitting by his bed herself.

"Mistress was sitting by master's bedside all night and only left a while ago," the elf replied. "She asked Tibby to let her know when master was awake."

Then with a crack Tibby was gone, and Blaise leaned back against his pillows smiling to himself, his mind on the petite redhead he had glimpsed the night before, what a wonderful birthday present indeed!

Soon the elf had returned with a loaded breakfast tray and Blaise set about demolishing its contents. He felt as though he hadn't eaten for days, while consuming the food on the tray, he wondered what Ginny was doing today and whether her sleep had been disturbed by her nightmare. He hoped not.

A knock sounded on his door and without waiting for an invitation, Adriana, looking sleepy-eyed came in. "Blaise, are you ok?" she asked, sweeping across to him and bending, pecking him on the cheek. "I waited for you to get back and assure myself that you were all right before going to bed. Tibby has just awoken me."

Swallowing his mouthful, Blaise returned her smile. "Yes, Mother I'm fine. There was no need for you to wait for me though. As you can see, I got back all in one piece."

She sat down on the bed and gave him a searching look which he knew all too well. "Well?" she asked finally.

"Well, what?" he responded playfully before taking a large bite of melon.

"Did you find her?" Adriana shot him an exasperated look from beneath long lashes. "By the look of you, I'd say you have, so who is she?"

"Mother dear, you are impatient," he grinned. "Can't a chap finish his breakfast before being bombarded with questions like this?"

"No a 'chap' cannot, so out with it! Who is she? Do you know her? What does she look like?"

He leaned back against his pillows, considering her pensively.

"Calm down, I'll tell you all, but you must be patient. I have to admit that I was surprised when I realised who she was. I've seen her before. Hell, I went to school with the minx." A dreamy smile crossed his lips at the thought of said minx sprawled across his bed, whimpering and entreating as he showed her what real pleasure was.

"Blaise!"

His mother's irritated voice broke through his musings and he blinked, annoyed that she'd interrupted his blissful fantasy

"Huh? Oh yes, the girl. She was a year below me at Hogwarts, no idea what she's doing now. She'd had her share of boyfriends back then, all substituting for the all-mighty Potter. From what I heard, she and he were through before the year had ended. Clearly, he wasn't all he was cracked up to be." Satisfaction graced his tone as he spoke and he continued, "You may have heard of the family, the Weasleys? They're purebloods, although you wouldn't think it by the way they behave."

"Oh, the Weasleys? Certainly I have heard of them, who hasn't? The girl, is she the daughter?" Excitement laced Adriana's voice as she leaned forward eagerly. "I hear she is very beautiful, not to mention talented. How could she not be, being descended from the Prewetts?"

"Yeah, that's the one, Ginny Weasley and what a looker she is too! That red hair and fiery temperament, it's enough to make any man want to-"He broke off and smiled to himself. He could remember all too clearly how he, along with most of Hogwarts male population had drooled over her. Well, now she would be his, and his alone!

"Ginny? Surely that cannot be the girl's name?" Adriana asked with distaste. "Why, it's a muggle name. Think how it would sound."

"Oh it's short for something or other, but who cares about that right now. I need to get to Britain and start wooing her. The quicker I claim her, the better all round. She's far too popular for her own good, my Ginny."

"Why is it that whenever there's a woman involved, men's brains seem to sink to groin level? You need to be tactful and subtle. If what I hear is true, then she is surrounded by muggle-lovers and you, my boy, will not be on her list of favourite men. No, what you need to do is get her over here. You will stand a much better chance of pursuit without all those brothers of hers constantly surrounding her. As the youngest child and only daughter, she's well protected in Britain – something I fear will prove problematic. I will get Manks to research the girl's background thoroughly so we know what we are dealing with."

"Well Mother dear, I already put Manks on the case when I got back. He should have the information for us as soon as possible."

As though Blaise's words were a stage prompt, a knock sounded on the door and Adriana got up to open it.

Manks was a tall stooping man who had been part of the Zabini staff for as long as Blaise could remember. He was quiet, efficient and able to get jobs done with minimum fuss. He now stepped into the room and shut the door behind him.

"Well, Manks?" Blaise asked pushing his breakfast tray away and surveying the other man eagerly. "Have you the information I want?"

"Yes Master Zabini, it wasn't difficult to find. The girl is well known in British wizarding society."

He handed Blaise a thick file and sketching a hasty bow, left the room.

"Hmm, this lot should keep me going for a while," Blaise mused, opening the file. "There you go Mother, her full name is Ginevra. Not even you can scoff at that!"

Adriana made a non-committal sound as she moved to stand at her son's shoulder so she could read Mank's neat writing.

The first few pages of the file consisted of Information such as the girl's birthday, present address, background and so on. Then came a list of her OWL and NEWT scores and then finally it started on her career. This too, Blaise glossed over, his interest focused on the more private aspects of his mate's life.

Finally he found what he was looking for, a list of her past boyfriends and the types of relationships she had had with them. His eyes moved down the list until they reached the last name. He stared at the words written by the name, horror flooding him as their impact registered on his stunned mind.

"No!" he roared leaping up sending the folder tumbling to the floor. "No, it can't be… I won't let it… No!"

Blood was racing through his veins in torrents and a red mist was starting to form in front of his eyes as he tried to control his temper. If he didn't act soon, he was in danger of losing her for good, a thought that was too terrible to contemplate.


	2. Chapter 2

Authors Note: The lateness of this chapter was mainly due to the fact that I've been having problems with my computer. As always, your comments and views are welcome.

Chapter 2

The dawn chorus was loud and enthusiastic, the sound swelling cheerfully in the early morning breeze. The air was crisp and the sky was a beautiful blend of pink, purple and blue, as the sun emerged over the rooftops of London, which was slowly coming to life.

In her spacious flat situated in the suburbs of the city, Ginny lay back in bed, savouring the peace of the morning and glad to be alive. Excitement washed through her at the thought of the day ahead and she grinned, glancing at the neatly packed trunk lying at the foot of the bed. Today she would be off to the Caribbean and she couldn't wait!

It had been a long time since she had been out of Britain, the last time being a fleeting visit to Argentina with Luna Lovegood, on an undertaking for the Order of the Phoenix. Now though, she was going alone and was looking forward to the experience. She wondered what it would be like, whether she would become acclimatized or not, she sincerely hoped she would. The good weather in the Caribbean and the wonderful scenery would be enough to satisfy anyone.

Jumping out of bed, she threw off her pyjamas and took a quick shower, her mind busy with plans and ideas for the upcoming day. Even now she couldn't believe that out of the fifty or so marine workers, she, one of the least experienced, had been chosen for the trip. Dressing hastily in jeans and a sleeveless top, she strolled into the compact kitchen and busied herself making coffee.

A few minutes later, the kitchen door was pushed open, and turning, she saw May, her flat mate, enter the room, looking bleary eyed, her damp hair hanging loose around her shoulders. Clearly she too, had just got out of the shower.

"Someone's very cheerful this morning," May, never a morning person, grumbled, slouching over to the counter and pouring herself some coffee.

Ginny smiled at her tall, dark-haired friend. "This someone has every reason to be cheerful," she replied, leading the way into the sitting room carrying her coffee, with May following. She switched on the television, a housewarming present from Ron and Hermione which along with various other muggle items of May's had been adapted to run on magic, and sprawled out on the sofa.

"It's not fair," May sighed, sitting down opposite and glaring at the TV screen where BBC Breakfast News was in full swing. "I wouldn't mind a trip to the Caribbean; it'd set me up for the next few months. All those white sandy beaches and the men!" She gave another theatrical sigh.

"It's not a holiday, May," Ginny replied with a mock-stern expression. "I won't have time to sit around and sun bathe you know. I've more than enough to do to keep me busy from morning till dusk."

May snorted and threw back the rest of her coffee in two gulps. "Yeah right, if I believe that, I'd believe anything. Is that why you've packed three bikinis, or are they just work wear?"

Ginny laughed. "Well, a woman has to have some rest you know. All work and no play isn't healthy for anyone."

"Hmph! Well, all I have to say on the matter is that you should remember your engagement." May pointed a finger at the redhead. "What did Brian have to say about everything last night? I bet he wasn't happy."

For the first time that morning, Ginny felt her smile falter. She stared down into her now empty coffee cup, images of the night before racing through her mind.

"I'm sorry," May apologised hurriedly, giving Ginny a stricken look. "I didn't… trust me to put my big foot in it… that is-"

"It's OK," Ginny smiled feebly back. "Actually, Brian wasn't happy about it in the least. We ended up having a blazing row. All we seem to do these days is row. Mum thinks it's an early case of pre-wedding nerves on my part, but I don't know."

"Fried breakfast?" May asked abruptly, getting up and bustling into the kitchen, all sleepiness forgotten as she clattered around starting to cook breakfast.

Ginny nodded, getting up and going to help her friend. She always found it was easier to discuss sensitive topics when she was busy doing something as May well knew.

"Anyway," May continued, cracking eggs into a bowl, "It's common to have cold-feet… and if you ask me, the two of you rushed into this engagement. You have your whole life ahead of you, and you're an attractive woman…"

"I know, May, I know. When he proposed, a part of me wanted desperately to say 'no' but everyone was expecting me to agree and I did. I ignored the voice of reason, and so I accepted his proposal, feeling that if I didn't, I'd hurt him. And I don't want him hurt, May. I care about him."

"Well then if you love him, it's settled." May replied, lighting the cooker with a poke of her wand preparatory to frying eggs.

"I'm starting to think that I care for him platonically, the way I love any one of my brothers," Ginny said, busily chopping mushrooms. "I don't know whether I'd mind or not if he would find happiness with another woman. I'm beginning to wonder if we're even suited."

"Better you find out now than when you're married." May responded, wrinkling her nose in thought. "Now those rows… the whole building must have heard you yelling at one another. You wouldn't think that two people about to be married could argue like that."

"Oh no, don't remind me of that. The most recent argument was about the same old thing. Brian even said I was… he accused me of being frigid."

"What?" May was now staring at her friend, the sizzling frying pan forgotten. "The git! He can't go around saying things like that. Just because you don't choose to sleep with him before marriage, is no reason to say that. I hope you gave him a piece of your mind."

"But what if it's true?" Ginny frowned, now buttering toast.

"Rubbish," May snorted, frying tomatoes and mushrooms. "Sleeping with your partner isn't a prerequisite to a relationship you know. In fact in this day and age, it's sensible not to until you're really sure of them, what with all these sexually transmitted diseases going around. Perhaps when you finally get round to it, you'll feel differently about him, and the 'platonic' issue will be forgotten."

Ginny smiled. Trust May to look at things from a practical point of view, she was a lot like Hermione in that respect.

"Anyway," May went on, carrying the heaped plates of food through to the sitting room, "this break will give you a bit of breathing space to sort yourself out. If you do find that you've made a mistake, you can cancel the engagement." She grinned. "You never know, you may find some gorgeous bloke out there with loads of money. Just remember to ask him if he's got a brother, that's all I ask!"

Ginny burst out laughing and the two tucked into their meal with relish. "I don't think Michael would like it if you made off with some stranger," she suggested. "A 'brother', indeed!"

"Oh Mike wouldn't mind, as long as he was in on the deal."

"Deal? What deal?" Ginny spluttered, unable to keep a straight face.

"Well now. I could always buy him off," May suggested with a wicked smile. "You know, use my new-found lover's money to get rid of him."

Ginny grinned. May was to be married to her long-time boyfriend of five years and a more devoted couple she didn't know. She often envied them their stable relationship, trying not to compare it to her own turbulent engagement to Brian.

"So what's the plan then?" May finally asked, setting down her knife and fork and looking across at Ginny.

"The company has a Marine reserve on the island, I'm supposed to work with their workforce and learn everything I can. They've developed some new technique of extracting pollutant gases from the lungs of barracudas, which they want me to learn so we can apply it to our own sharks."

"Lovely!" May drawled with a roll of her eyes. "I'm still amazed that you, of all the workers were chosen though," she went on, helping herself to more toast.

"It didn't go down too well in certain quarters I can tell you," Ginny remembered smirking. "Some of the older ones nearly had a fit."

"Yeah, I can well believe it. Ah well, make the most of it, it's a once in a lifetime opportunity."

"And you make sure that you water the plants, OK?" Ginny frowned across at May who shrugged in response. "If they're dead when I get back, I'll want to know why!"

She couldn't help remembering a previous occasion when she had returned from a trip to her parents', to find the plants in the sitting room and her bedroom, dead because May had forgotten to water them. She had however, dusted the leaves within an inch of their lives.

"Ok, ok, point taken," the dark-haired woman agreed reluctantly. "Why you put such store by them, I'll never know. All they do is clutter the place up."

May was about as green fingered as a giant and Ginny knew if it was left to her, she would bin all the plants in the flat, for as she put it, they had no practical purpose other than to trap dust.

Resisting the urge to argue with her flatmate about the importance of plants, she said instead, "I'd better make sure I've got everything." She got up from the table and ignoring May's smirk, banished the dirty dishes to the sink with a flick of her wand. "There would be nothing more embarrassing than leaving an important document behind."

"Of course."

"Well it's true," Ginny huffed, glaring at her friend who continued smiling.

"You may want to check that you've got all your beach-wear as well. You can't go without that now can you?" May drawled in a deceptively casual voice. "Just imagine how embarrassing that would be!"

Her good spirits restored, Ginny marched into her bedroom chin held high, May's laughter ringing in her ears.

XoXoXoXo

The small portkey office was quiet as it was not the holiday season. Only a few witches and wizards, wearing intent expressions stood in the short cue in front of the reception desk, fidgeting or sighing deeply as the line moved slowly forward and portkeys were distributed after much checking of paperwork.

Ginny glancing at her watch, was relieved to see that she had plenty of time before she needed to be in Ethosa, the only all wizarding island in the Caribbean, on which she would be staying. She wished the cue would hurry up and move, she wanted to be on her way.

Finally, it was her turn and stepping eagerly forward, she handed her travel papers to the bored looking wizard at the desk.

"Ethosa?" he grunted glancing through them and she nodded.

"Hmph. It says here you're going on behalf of Marine Reserves, is that right?"

"Yes, you can check the paperwork, it's all there," she replied trying not to sound irritated.

He grunted again, flicking through the sheaf of parchment she had handed him. "It's an open return, how long do you intend staying?"

"As long as my business takes me, hence it's an open return."

"All Right, no need to take that tone with me, missy. Just doing my job here." He glared at her over a pair of spectacles perched precariously on his nose and pulled a folder from a pile on his desk, towards him. "Normally, we require two weeks notice for an international portkey, but only got a few days," he grumbled scrutinising its contents.

"Well, it was a last minute trip. No doubt my company has made all the necessary arrangements." Ginny hoped her voice didn't convey the exasperation that she was feeling.

Ignoring this, he said, "Here," and thrust a glass stopper towards her and waved at a door to his right. "One of the officers will activate the portkey."

Snatching up the portkey and her travel documents, she hurried towards the door, glad to be rid of the grumpy man. She pushed the door open, and entered a smaller room, containing a witch, busy labelling used portkeys. The witch turned and smiled at Ginny.

"Ah yes, you must be the lady travelling to Ethosa."

Ginny nodded and handed over her travel documents. The witch glanced through them and nodded, giving them back.

"That all seems in order. You'll feel a bit disorientated when you get there, but it'll soon pass. Now, you're travelling directly there?"

"Yes, they're expecting me in around five minutes." Ginny glanced at her watch again.

"Good luck then, it's no picnic doing that journey without at least one stop."

"Oh, I'll be ok, I've been travelling by portkey since I was tiny," Ginny smiled.

The witch shrugged, took the portkey and tapped it with her wand, before handing it to Ginny. "Have you secured all the items on your person?"

Ginny nodded, tucking her travel documents into a pocket of her travelling cloak and zipping it up, before taking a firm grasp of her portkey.

"Well, enjoy your break. Three, two, one!"

Ginny felt her feet leave the ground and the wind rushing in her ears as the portkey sped her out of Britain to the other side of the world. She closed her eyes and bit back a groan as her stomach protested at the speed she was being forced to travel. Whenever she had travelled before, the journey had been split into three stages, now she understood why. She closed her mouth tightly to prevent the bile that was threatening to escape her throat, as she was pulled ever forward, while being battered by a strong wind.

What felt like hours later, but was no more than a few minutes, she felt herself hit the ground and immediately crumpled in a heap, her head spinning and nausea overwhelming her.

"Oh, dear, me," a voice above her said in deep melodic tones and a bowl was pushed under her chin. Before she could stop herself, the contents of her stomach was being propelled into the bowl.

She looked up, her head still spinning, to find a man bending over her, wearing a concerned expression.

"Miss Weasley, I believe?" he asked smiling, holding out a hand to help her up.

"I'm really sorry," Ginny mumbled, pulling herself unsteadily to her feet with the aid of his hand. "I didn't mean to be sick like that."

"Not a problem." He smiled again and with a wave of his wand the mess in the bowl had vanished. "Welcome to The Grand View Hotel. I'm Carlton, manager of the hotel."

For the first time, Ginny looked around her. She was finally at the four-star hotel a colleague had talked endlessly about, and even in her dazed state, couldn't help but feel excited while looking round the large elegatly decorated room with wood floors.

"Are you ok?" Carlton asked courteously, while watching her intently.

"Yes, thanks," She smiled feebly, and started to feel slightly embarrassed about her sickness. "I made the mistake of travelling straight from Britain and am paying for my folly."

"Ah, no wonder, you weren't feeling well. Never mind, a bit of rest and you'll feel yourself again. Here." He held out a goblet which contained a bluish liquid. "It's a potion to cure travel sickness. We use it quite a lot and it's very effective."

Ginny eyed the goblet warily for a moment, and then downed the contents in three gulps. Immediately, she felt her head start to clear and her stomach settle. Feeling was seeping back into her and she began to feel much better. The world had stopped spinning and she was able to look around her.

"Thanks very much," she said smiling at the tall man watching her. "That's really helped."

"Good, I'm glad. Now, if you'll come this way, we can get the formalities over with."

He lead the way out of the room, into a large marble foyer which was empty but for a young woman sitting at a reception desk, busily writing in a thick ledger.

"Cheryl, this is Miss Weasley. Miss Weasley, this is Cheryl, our receptionist."

Cheryl, a striking dark girl who looked to be around Ginny's own age, looked up and smiled. "It's nice to meet you, Miss Weasley."

"Oh please, call me Ginny, everyone does," Ginny returned, with a smile of her own.

"Sure, thanks." The other girl pushed some forms towards Ginny as she spoke. "Could you please fill these in? Then I'll take you to your suite."

Hiding her surprise that she was to have a suite all to herself, Ginny picked up a brightly coloured quill and filled in the forms, pushing them back across the desk to Cheryl who filed them neatly, before coming round the desk.

"If you'll follow me," she smiled and walked on ahead.

"Well, I'll leave you in Cheryl's capable hands," Carlton said, and Cheryl paused. "If you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask. We want you to be as comfortable as possible for the duration of your stay." With that, he strolled off whistling cheerfully.

Ginny followed Cheryl's neat figure through the grand foyer with its large palm trees and other exotic plants and onto a wide curving staircase made of a reddish wood she had never seen before. The hotel seemed very quiet and she was surprised to see no one else about.

"Um, where is everyone?" she asked tentatively as they reached the top of the staircase.

"Sleeping," Cheryl replied affably. "It's siesta time here on the island and people like to take a nap. They'll all be up and about in an hour or so, when the midday heat has died down a bit."

"Of course, how silly of me." Ginny shook her head, noting the beauty of the scenery outside the windows. "I forgot for a moment that you're five hours behind Britain here. It was six in the evening when I left."

"An easy mistake to make," Cheryl excused.

They were now walking down a broad corridor lined with windows on one side, and soon, had reached a large door at the end.

"This is your suite." Cheryl unlocked the door with a wave of her wand, and stood aside to let Ginny pass her.

Moving into the small corridor beyond, it was all Ginny could do not to gawk like a teenager. Facing her were two doors, one leading into a large sitting room and the other into a bedroom. The whole of the suite was done out in cool blues and purples and the ceramic tiled floors covered with deep pile rugs echoing the same colour scheme.

"I hope it's to your liking," Cheryl smiled. "If not, we can always change it to meet your needs."

"It's wonderful," Ginny replied moving into the airy sitting room. The room was large, containing a sofa and two arm chairs. French windows led out onto a balcony and Ginny could see the sea from where she stood. It was a beautiful view. A small bar, stocking drinks, had been built against one wall and dazedly she wondered how much all this was costing the company.

Moving into the bedroom, she saw that it held a huge four-poster bed draped in Mosquito netting. There was a large walk-in closet and a vanity table holding various accessories, all made of the same light wood that covered the floor. The drapes at the large windows were partially drawn to block out the strong sunlight, and this room too lead out on to a balcony. An open door led into a spacious bathroom and she could see at a glance that the fittings were all made of marble.

"Wow, this is absolutely beautiful," she gasped, staring round her in ore.

"I'm glad you like it. Now if you give me your luggage, I'll have Hal unpack it for you. Hal?" Cheryl called.

Immediately, there was a crack and a house elf appeared in front of them.

"Please unpack Miss… I mean Ginny's luggage." She turned to Ginny. "Hal has been assigned to look after you. If you need anything at all, just call him."

Feeling slightly stunned, Ginny nodded and started unbuttoning her travelling cloak. The next moment, the elf had stepped forward and pealed the hood back and was sliding the cloak from her shoulders.

"Oh my!" Cheryl gasped staring at Ginny. "Wow!"

Confused, Ginny turned to her.

"Your hair, it's so bright," Cheryl exclaimed in wonder, putting out a hand and stroking the flaming red mass which had been pulled into a bun at the base of Ginny's neck. "It's so beautiful." She stood back and surveyed Ginny. "I don't think I've ever seen such colouring on anyone. Ginger and auburn, I've seen before. But this is different."

Feeling her face start to flame, Ginny shrugged. "My whole family look like this, this particular tone of red is our trademark, you might say."

"Well, round here, we hardly ever see redheads. When we were informed that a British lady would be coming to stay, we assumed that she would be an older lady. You'll definitely cause a stir," Cheryl winked meaningfully. "The men will be tripping over themselves to become acquainted with you. Why, I believe that even his lordship will sit up and take notice, and he is notoriously hard to please." Then her voice taking on a business like tone, she went on, "Now, I suggest you rest for a while and get some sleep. It's not easy travelling between time zones."

"Yes, you're right," Ginny agreed wearily, not bothering to ask who 'his Lordship' may be.

Soon both the elf and Cheryl had left her and she was lying back on the bed, sleep overtaking her.

XoXoXoXo

Ginny eyed herself critically in her bedroom mirror, wondering if she looked the part of a young professional woman. She straightened the simply cut silk dress that hugged her slender five foot frame, and once again checked her neatly pinned hair, to ensure that no strands had escaped. Glancing at her watch, she scooped up her evening bag. If she didn't move, she would be late for the dinner she had been invited to by the island Reserve's manager and that would never do.

She made her way into the foyer of the hotel, where several guests were milling about. All cast curious glances at her but before anyone could speak to her, she felt her elbow being lightly clasped by Ray Hawkins, the manager of the Reserve. Of middling height, Ray had a kindly face with twinkling eyes. She guessed him to be in his late forties or early fifties. Across the room, Cheryl smiled at her.

"Ah, Miss Weasley, if you'll come this way," Ray smiled. "The third member of our party as arrived. I thought we'd eat out on the hotel terrace; it's close to the sea and catches the sea breezes."

She walked with him across the foyer, out into the now floodlit gardens. They entered a patio, lined with tables and chairs. This must be an open air restaurant; Ginny could see families sitting down to dinner. Ray guided her to the end of the terrace and to a table hidden from view by a trailing vine.

A man stood to one side of the table, his tall form hidden partially in shadow. His gaze was fixed on the sea but at their approach, he turned to face them.

"Miss Weasley, this is a pleasure indeed," he purred stepping forward and taking Ginny's hand in his own.

She frowned; she had heard that voice somewhere before; low and husky with a faint accent. She looked up into his chocolate-brown eyes and felt her mouth fall open in surprise. Swiftly she snatched her hand back, and stepped away from him as though she had been burned.

"So you remember me, I wondered if you would," Blaise Zabini drawled, pulling out her chair and waiting courteously as she sat down before taking his own seat opposite her. "If I may say, you look as lovely as ever."

"You know one another?" Ray asked in amazement, taking his own seat which was at right angles to Blaise and Ginnys'. She tried not to squirm at the way Blaise was staring at her, lust and something she could not identify, glittering in his eyes.

"We last saw each other, what now almost seven years ago, I believe," Blaise replied, once Ray was comfortably seated. Ginny, glad that his attention had been diverted from her, nodded stiffly.

"But that's incredible!" Ray exclaimed, staring between them.

"Not really," Ginny responded dryly, "Mr Zabini was in the year above me at Hogwarts, which was of course closed down at the end of my fifth year."

"All this formality," Blaise smiled, "Surely we can dispense with it? I mean Miss… Ginny and I are after all, old acquaintances."

Ginny would have liked to tell him what he could do with that suggestion, but Ray was nodding in agreement, and so she too nodded, all be it reluctantly

"Excellent, now what would you like to eat Ginny?" Blaise asked, smiling warmly at her. "The cuisine is excellent here."

She picked up the menu and scanned it. Blaise's appearance had caught her by surprise and the last thing she wanted to do was have dinner with him. When earlier, Ray had invited her to dinner, as a welcoming gesture, saying he wanted to introduce her to a friend of his, she had not realised that it would be Blaise.

"I'll have the cold Broccoli soup and the Fresh Garden Salad with some Fluffy cheese Rice," she said putting down her menu, having decided to try something new. She had no intention of letting him ruin her apatite!

"Certainly, Miss," the waiter who had glided silently up beside her nodded. "What would you like to drink?"

"A non-Alcoholic pina colada please." She responded, pleased that they served this drink. She thought it best to keep a clear head under the circumstances.

Once Ray and Blaise had placed their orders and the waiter had left the table, the latter turned back to Ginny. "Tell me what you've been doing these past few years, Ginny," he invited, leaning forward.

"What most of Wizarding Britain's being doing," she responded coolly.

"And what's that?" this time it was Ray who had asked the question, and she smiled at him.

"As you know, there was a war on," she explained, addressing herself exclusively to him and ignoring Blaise. "I completed my education, then helped in the war, and once Voldemort had been defeated, began my career."

She knew she was being childish and rude, but she couldn't forget the sneers she had been forced to endure by Blaise and his fellow slytherins, about her lack of money or material possessions while at Hogwarts, not to mention continuous taunts about being a "Blood Traitor". Then there were the arrogant looks he would direct at her now and then, making her feel as though he could see right through her clothes. Five years of being ridiculed had certainly left their mark; she thought bitterly as she sipped her green drink. She couldn't trust him as far as she could throw him, and had half a mind to tell him so.

"Where did you finish your schooling?" Ray asked with interest.

"Beauxbatons."

There was a pause as their starters arrived. Picking up her soup spoon, Ginny tasted the creamy soup and smiled in contentment. It was certainly delicious, cool and tangy.

"I hope the soup is to your liking," Blaise commented watching her.

Ginny nodded an carried on eating her soup, her mind busy devising ways of speeding up the meal so as not to spend more time with him than was necessary. Of all the people she had to meet on this idyllic island, it had to be him, typical! She could feel Blaise's eyes on her but refused to look up and meet his gaze.

Finally, it was Ray who broke the silence. "I hope you're comfortable here at the Grand, Ginny. It's the Island's best hotel and if there's something you're not happy with, please say."

She looked up and smiled at him. "Thanks, it's wonderful. The views are so lovely; it almost makes me want to move out here permanently."

"It's certainly a lot nicer than England," Blaise agreed, although Ginny noticed that his attention was fixed on the ring adorning the third finger of her left hand. Seing she had noticed, he asked "Who's the lucky man? Anyone I know?"

"I doubt it, Brian Forcett. We're due to be married soon," she replied shortly, sparing him a frosty glance before turning back to Ray.

"I hope that all goes well for you both," the older man smiled. "It's nice to see young people building a life for themselves after that terrible war."

Ginny noticed that Blaise remained silent, staring moodily into his wine glass, dark brows drawn together in a frown.

Their empty dishes were removed and their second course placed before them. She looked with interest at the salad and rice before her, and took a bite, stifling a groan of pleasure at its wonderful flavour. She had heard lots about West Indian cooking from various friends, and had to agree it was extremely nice.

Glancing across to Blaise, she saw he was pushing his food around his plate in an abstracted manner.

"Is your main course not to your liking?" she asked with interest and not a little satisfaction.

He fixed her with a penetrating gaze. "Yes thanks, it's very nice. Would you care to try some?"

Before she could shake her head, he had picked up a clean fork and scooped up a mouthful of chicken and vegetables. Then leaning forward, he pressed it against her lips. "Go on, try it, I promise it's nice."

Feeling foolish, she accepted the forkful of food, conscious that Ray was watching proceedings with avid curiosity. It was certainly nice, rich and spicy.

"More?" Blaise asked scooping up another mouthful and holding it against her mouth.

Unable to do anything else, she accepted it, and then swiftly turned away, hoping she didn't look as self-conscious as she felt. To give herself time to recover, she took a long drink of water. Opposite her, Blaise had put down his own fork and had begun to eat using the one with which he had fed her.

"Hmm, very nice indeed," he purred and she had the uncomfortable feeling that he wasn't referring to the food, as with deliberate movements, he licked the fork clean.

She gazed around her, seeking some means of defusing the uncomfortable situation. "This restaurant is very busy," she finally said in what she hoped was a casual voice. "Is it always like this?"

"Oh yes," Blaise smiled back, white teeth glinting in the light of the hovering candles. "We're a very sociable lot out here on Ethosa, and believe in enjoying ourselves whenever we can. This hotel is well-known for its wonderful food and after dinner entertainment."

"Definitely," Ray chimed in. "Do you like dancing, Ginny?"

"Um, yes, I suppose so," she responded hesitantly. "Is that the 'Copa Cabana' they're playing?" She would have liked to hum along to the song but she was presented with no such opportunity, as Blaise open his mouth, once again, to address her.

"So you do enjoy dancing then, excellent," he beamed, ignoring her other remark. "They have a live band on a Wednesday evening which plays fabulous dance music."

She laughed lightly. "Oh, I doubt I'll be in any fit state to dance tonight, I'm quite tired and once I've finished this wonderful meal, all I'll want to do is sit and watch. Do you dance Ray?"

"The Misses and I enjoy the odd stately waltz, but not all this jiving that you young people like these days."

"It's great fun, Ray. You should give it a go," Blaise encouraged with a smile.

"I'll watch the two of you. You'll make a striking couple," the other man smiled fondly at them.

"I'll watch as well. Otherwise I'm guaranteed to trip over my own feet and Merlin knows what else. The change in time zone is starting to catch up with me, and my co-ordination won't stand up to dancing," Ginny excused herself hurriedly.

The waiter appeared and removed their empty plates. "Would you like dessert Miss?" he asked warmly.

Across the table, Blaise glared at him and he stepped back. Ginny gave the man a dazzling smile and said, "I'm actually quite full, so just coffee for me please." The sooner this meal ended the better.

"Yes of course, and you sir?" he addressed Blaise who shrugged.

"The same."

"A Punch a Crème, thanks," Ray said as the waiter turned to him. "If I eat any more, I think I'll explode. The portions here are very generous."

The waiter nodded and glided away. To their right, Ginny could see a small band setting out their instruments and felt a twinge of excitement go through her. She loved dancing; it was one of the seemingly few things that Brian and she had in common.

Their drinks arrived and she sipped her coffee quickly, eager to get the meal over and done with so that she could escape Blaise's disturbing presence.

"They're setting up," the object of her musings stated, waving a hand towards the large hotel lounge in which the band was busy tuning up.

Faking a yawn, Ginny set down her cup and turned to the other two. "I'm absolutely exhausted, would you excuse me?"

Immediately, both men got to their feet, and to her irritation, Blaise pulled out her chair for her.

"Of course," Ray replied, moving to her side. "I'm sorry that you're so tired, the dancing is wonderful."

"It seems so. Ah well, maybe at the weekend. For now though, all I want to do is sleep," Ginny smiled at him. "I'll see you tomorrow morning at the Reserve."

"I'll instruct the hotel to set up a portkey for you."

She shook her head, remembering her most recent experience with the device. "If you don't mind, I'll walk. It'll give me a chance to see a bit of the island and get my bearings."

"If you're sure. The hotel will give you directions. We're not hard to find."

Saying her goodnights, she moved away from the table, only to realise that Blaise was still beside her. Putting on her best smile, she said, "I should be OK, now thanks. It was interesting meeting you."

"You don't appear to be particularly tired," he replied, still keeping pace with her, his figure towering over her much smaller frame. He brushed his fingers lightly across her upper arm, and she felt her heart skip a beat at the unexpected sensation. It felt as though an electric current had brushed across her skin causing a shiver, no other man had managed to provoke to shoot up her spine.

"Oh I am," she replied, hoping that her voice didn't reflect her sudden surprise. "Absolutely shattered, as a matter of fact."

"Hmm, I wonder. I would like to think that your hasty departure has nothing to do with old school rivalries, but alas, fear these are still governing your perception of me."

She shrugged as they passed between a large group of holidaymakers. Let him think what he liked - she didn't care. "You can think what you like, Zabini, in my book, a leopard doesn't change its spots. Good night."

They had now reached the French windows into the lounge which was quickly filling up. Bending her knees, she edged her way between a group of young people, and in moments had lost Blaise. Then she hurried up the stairs to her own suite, collapsing on the sofa of her sitting room with a thankful sigh.

How she wished she could have joined in the dancing, but that would mean putting up with the x-Slytherin, something she didn't think she could do. He reminded her of a snake, innocent looking, but the moment you got too near, would bite without a second's hesitation. The man made her very uncomfortable and always had done. He screamed danger, and that was something she could do without right now. The fact that he'd caused a brief, unexpected sensation within her by the merest touch, was all the more reason for her to avoid him! Why did he have to be on this particular island of all places? From the sounds of it, he lived here and she would probably have to endure his presence more often than she liked.

Looking down at her engagement ring, she wondered what Brian was doing at the moment, probably asleep. Part of her wished that he could have accompanied her to this wonderful island; maybe he could come over for a holiday once her work with the Marine reserve had finished? She was sure the sun, sea and sand, would work wonders for their relationship and resolved to write to him about it as soon as she could.

Crossing to the balcony, she looked out and saw people making their way into the hotel to enjoy the night's entertainment. Again she wished she could join them. Then a tall figure she had no trouble recognising even from this distance, made his way out of the hotel and turned down the beach, striding away without looking back. Blaise Zabini certainly knew how to make the most of his lean muscular build, even from this distance, arrogance and self-assurance seemed to roll off the man in waves. For some odd reason, he had left before the dancing had even started.

Grinning broadly, she watched him out of sight, and then turned away. Now she could go down without fear of bumping into him. She wouldn't stay too long for she was tired, but would enjoy a few dances. She waited for another five minutes to make sure that he wasn't coming back, then locked her door and went downstairs to join the fun.

XoXoXoXo

The beat of the music was pounding loudly and the floor seemed to vibrate with it. Ginny's dance partner, swung her effortlessly round the floor and her feet hardly touched the ground. She had been dancing for the last hour or so and never before had she gone so long without having her feet trodden on by at least one inept partner. She grinned up at the man whose name she didn't know and he returned her grin. These people certainly knew a thing or two about dancing, she thought as she was whisked round the packed floor. She had lost count of the number of men who had danced with her, and wondered fleetingly when she had last enjoyed herself to this extent.

It was as the song reached its crescendo that it happened. One moment Ginny and her partner were twirling and swooping in time to the lively music, the next; her engagement ring had snapped and fallen from her finger with an unheard tinkle. She stared down at her now bare hand, horror flooding her.

"My ring," she shouted at the man partnering her. "It's fallen down somewhere."

He stared at her hand which she was waving in the air for emphasis. "Ring? What ring?" he questioned, guiding her to the side of the dance floor, and out of the way of other couples.

"My engagement ring, it's broken," she shouted above the music, trying hard to quell the panic that was taking hold of her, as franticly she looked round the wooden floor for any signs of it.

She felt a touch on her arm and turned to see Cheryl standing behind her. "Is anything wrong?" the other girl asked looking concerned. I saw you break away from the other dancers and thought I'd make sure that you were ok."

"My ring's fallen off; one moment it was there, the next, it had gone," Ginny explained, feeling tears welling up.

Cheryl frowned in thought, then raising her wand, said, "Accio Ginny's ring."

They watched as several small peaces of twisted metal whizzed into Cheryl's open palm. Wordlessly, she handed them to Ginny. The diamond, now separated from the band holding it, glittered up at her and she swallowed back tears.

"Let's get out of here," Cheryl suggested, taking Ginny's arm. "You, Lenny, you come too."

Ginny's dance partner followed them out of the room into the small office behind the foyer, where it was much quieter.

Pushing Ginny down into a chair, Cheryl left the office for a moment. Then she was back with Carlton.

They sat down and the older man took the pieces of ring from Ginny, examining them closely.

He then asked both Ginny and a nervous Lenny what had happened but neither could tell him more than they had Cheryl.

"Hmm, I don't know what to say. We have hardly any robberies here and I don't think this was a result of someone's thieving. Look, the ring's been blasted apart, not the act of a thief at all."

"Anyway, if it was a robber, you would have noticed when they tried to summon the ring," Lenny put in. "You would have felt the tug on your finger."

"It looks to me as though it blasted itself apart, like a self-destructing charm," Cheryl mused. "Your finger's OK Ginny so it can only be that."

"Can't it be fixed?" Ginny asked. "A simple repairo …"

"No, my dear. This ring was put together using several complex charms. What's more there was magic in it, there would be, it being an engagement ring. Such things once broken can rarely be fixed," Carlton replied gently, giving her a fatherly smile.

"My sister's ring did that," Lenny put in. "She split up from her fiancé and next thing she knows, the ring has fallen apart."

"Yes, but I didn't split up from Brian, we're still engaged," Ginny protested, starting to feel sick

"No, not any more, by wizarding law you're not," Cheryl shook her head.

"We still intend on marrying one another, will the broken ring affect that?" She asked in confusion. " I don't understand…"

"Magical forces will prevent the two of you joining in holy matrimony. The whole thing is strange though, the ring looked perfectly OK earlier today," Carlton replied.

"Maybe it was your fiancé who broke it off," Lenny suggested.

"No, he didn't," Ginny sighed. "For the ring to split, one party has to have told the other that they're breaking the engagement. We were engaged when I left Britain, I'm sure of that as I'm of anything."

"Tell you what, I'll ask his lordship if he knows anyone who can fix it for you," Carlton volunteered kindly. "He knows lots of people that we don't, he has contacts all over the world. I'm sure he can get it fixed."

"His Lordship?" Ginny asked curiously. "Who's he?"

Both Cheryl and Carlton gave her odd looks. "You know him better than we do," Cheryl finally said.

Frowning, Ginny shook her head. "No, I've never heard of him before, who is he?"

"But you dined with him this evening," the other woman protested. "You and Ray Hawkins dined with him on the south terrace. Remember?"

"Who, Zabini?" Ginny asked incredulously. "He's a lord?"

"Of course," Lenny answered, looking at her as though she were mad. "He's the richest person on the island, owns large estates and has an international business. Everyone knows that!"

"Oh," Ginny responded, shrugging.

"As I said, I'm sure that he'll know of someone who can maybe mend the ring, maybe one of the Egyptian goblins…" Carlton went on, but Ginny shook her head.

"Thanks, but I don't think he'll want to be bothered with such a trivial thing as this. Don't worry, I'll get it looked at when I return home." She took the pieces of ring back from Carlton and slipped them into her bag. "I'm sorry to have caused such a commotion, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go to bed; it's been a long day."

So saying, she got up and not looking at them, left the room.

Upstairs in her own suite, she felt the tears she had held back, spill down her cheeks as she looked at the mangled remains of the ring in her hand. How had this happened? One moment the ring was fine, the next it was gone and if Carlton was correct, couldn't be fixed. What was she going to tell Brian? There relationship was already strained as it was; this could be the blow that broke the proverbial camel's back.

Cheryl was right; to all intense and purposes, her engagement was broken but how, she did not know. She wondered what Brian's reaction would be; he would probably be livid and in all honesty, she couldn't blame him. She admitted the ring was not the strongest of its kind, but a lot of effort had gone into the charms that held it together. Now it was nothing and she had no idea as to how it had come apart. She wished she was back home; then none of this would have happened and she wouldn't be feeling so wretched. At least she would have someone to talk to, who could advise her as to what to do for the best.

Part of her was tempted to try and get it fixed in the hope that Brian wouldn't notice it, but the more practical part, wondered how much it would cost and whether it would make any difference to her and Brian's relationship. She was glad though that she had resisted the offer of getting Blaise Zabini involved. The less she had to do with him, the better it would be for all concerned. He would probably sneer and laugh at her misfortune, and that was something she could definitely do without!

What she had to do now was talk to Brian. Only then could they decide what was to be done, and take it from there. Straightening her shoulders, she called for Hal to put through a transatlantic floo call, even though it would be early morning in Britain.

XoXoXoXo

The lights along the beach had mostly gone out. Only the lighthouse, far out to see, could be clearly seen guiding ships around the jagged rocks dotted about the small harbour. The sky was a myriad of stars, and on any other night, Ginny would have gazed up at them, enthralled by their beauty. Tonight however, she could see nothing but her own confusion.

Wincing, she thought back to the row she had just had with Brian, her now ex-fiancé, and shook her head. Hal had put the call through to Brian, and unsurprisingly he had been a sleep. Once he had roused himself, she had told him of the night's happenings, and rather than look for a solution to the problem, he had begun to blame her.

She supposed that she should not have lost her own temper, but she had and soon, had started shouting back. What had been no more than an argument had esculated into a full scale row, culminating in Brian saying that the snapping of the ring had probably been a blessing in disguise, or it being a result of her strong inner objections to the impending marriage. She had told him that she too was glad, and never wanted to see him again, before terminating the call.

Thinking back on the argument, the only emotion that she could identify was relief. In her heart of hearts, she was glad that the engagement was finally over, even if the ending was not what could be termed as amicable. She knew that her parents would be disappointed, as they had looked forward to a big wedding for her, but that was life.

The unbidden fear that there was something wrong with her, slid into her mind and she scowled. It was true that she had gone through more boyfriends in a few years than other women managed in a lifetime, without feeling anything for them other than friendship, but surely this was because she hadn't yet met the right person? Brian had once accused her of being frigid and she had hotly denied it. Now, however she wondered. Surely it wasn't natural for a girl to have had so many boyfriends while never wanting to sleep with any of them?

She wondered if it had something to do with her reluctance to commit to a long-term relationship and sighed to herself. She did not relish the thought of being tied to one man for the rest of her life, but what woman did at her age? Growing up with six elder brothers had soon taught her to rely on herself alone; maybe it was her fierce independence that was to blame?

Deciding that she'd had enough of her own confused thoughts, she began to prepare her plans for the next day. She would spend some time after work in the hotel's gym, followed by a massage at the spa. Hopefully, this break would help her sort out her muddled thoughts. One thing she was glad of was that she wasn't in Britain at the moment. The breaking up of her engagement would be big news, and she was relieved that she wouldn't have to be witness to all the speculation, and the target of nosy reporters' intent on getting an exclusive interview from her.

With any luck, it would all have died down by the time she got back. Climbing into bed, she immediately shut her eyes, her mind switching determinedly to more pleasant thoughts of flower wreaths and hula skirts.


	3. Chapter 3

Authors Note: Apologies for the late update, I hope the lengthy chapter goes some way to making up for it. The disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.

Chapter Three

The sun was high in the clear blue sky, its reflection bouncing off the calm turquoise waters of the Caribbean Sea. Small fish darted in and out of the shallows, the refracted light picking out the colours of their scales.

From her position of ten metres below the surface of the clear water, Ginny could see for miles, her vision unhampered by debris or murky water as in Britain. She lay back, savouring the beauty of the scenery around her, reluctant to break the surface and go onto dry land. A tingling in her feet alerted her to the fact that the Gillyweed was wearing off and soon she would no longer be able to breathe under water. She swam upwards, and as she broke the surface, she felt her gills start to disappear and knew that she had timed things just right.

Treading water, she looked around her, startled to see that the beach was filling with holiday-makers intent on sun bathing. It must be later than she had thought. As she struck out towards the shore, she wondered how long she had been underwater. It had been early morning when she had dived into the sea and she had swallowed two more mouthfuls of Gillyweed while under the surface. Judging from the position of the sun, it must now be around 10 AM. Reaching the sandy beach, she made her way to the sheltered spot where she had left her towel. She had just picked it up when a voice spoke behind her.

"Excuse me, but there is seaweed on your, err, costume. Allow me to remove it."

Whipping round, Ginny frowned at the tall dark woman who had addressed her. The woman was surveying her through narrowed eyes, while looking as though she had stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine. Ginny judged her to be in her late forties although it was difficult to tell her age from her unlined face.

"Thanks for telling me," Ginny muttered, plucking the strand of seaweed from the shoulder of her bright green protective shark costume.

The other woman, however, did not move away, but stood appraising Ginny. Then she said, "I do not think I have seen you before, are you knew to the island?"

"Yes, I arrived yesterday."

"That is good. Allow me to introduce myself, Adriana Harringdon." She held out her hand and reluctantly, Ginny shook it, conscious of her own less than groomed appearance.

"Ginny Weasley," she replied, wondering how quickly she could get away without giving offence.

"Ginny?" the other asked, finely arched brows raised in enquiry.

"It's short for Ginevra, but no one calls me that," Ginny explained, feeling awkward. People never questioned her name so why this woman?

"That is a shame, as Ginevra is such a lovely name. I hope I may address you as such."

Ginny doubted that Adriana would listen if she refused and so nodded reluctantly.

"Wonderful. If you do not mind my asking, where are you staying?"

"At the Grand it's a lovely hotel."

"Indeed it is. " Adriana contemplated Ginny for a moment, then enquired, "Have you come to Ethosa alone?"

"Yes, I'm on a working break." May's scornful laughter of the day before came into Ginny's mind and she suppressed a smile. If this was a working break, she would happily continue the year round.

Adriana surveyed her green costume, her expression thoughtful. "You work with underwater creatures?" she asked politely.

"Yes, I've been surveying the shark population, from afar of course," Ginny smiled. "The underwater scenery here is spectacular." She pushed an escaped strand of hair out of her eyes, wanting to get out of her salt in grimed costume.

"We are known for our wildlife species on the island. But is it not dangerous? What if something went wrong and the sharks decided to go for you?"

"We always have our wands on us, and these costumes are charmed to repel sharks from getting too close," Ginny explained, but from the look on her face Adriana wasn't convinced.

"But there is still a risk to it," she persisted.

"About as much as being knocked off a broomstick," Ginny shrugged. She looked back at the dazzling water in which people were now paddling and sighed to herself. How different it was here than in Britain, where the seas were so polluted, much of the wildlife was on the point of extinction.

"Many of us keep exotic creatures as pets. I myself have some Habetan parrots," Adriana commented casually, noticing the younger woman's gaze and accurately interpreting her thoughts.

Ginny's eyes widened in surprise. Habetan parrots were very rare and unlike normal parrots, had some magical properties in their feathers. They could also be trained to act as messenger birds as their speech was more developed than their muggle counterparts. They were very rare though, and Ginny would give a lot for a chance to interact with one. "Wow," she exclaimed, "Where did you get them?"

Adriana's smile broadened. "My family breads them, has done so for years. I have a male, female and eight chicks which will be sold off soon." She was watching Ginny intently, and continued, "Would you like to see them?"

Ginny's expression brightened. "Oh, I'd love to. I've never seen a live one before."

"How about coming round this evening? You can have a meal with me, I would enjoy the company," Adriana offered, still in that off-hand casual voice.

"Well, I don't really know you and…." Ginny trailed off, feeling awkward.

The older woman's low musical laugh broke into her words. "My dear girl, this is not Britain you know. Here we are friendly and make our guests feel welcome so they will come back and visit us again. I would love it if you came to dinner, and see the Habetans. Shall we say this evening at 7:30?"

Ginny hesitated for a fraction longer, then nodded. Why not? If she was always going to be suspicious of people's motives, she would grow old before her time. "Thank you very much," she smiled.

"Excellent, my home is at the other end of the island Greenlawns. It would probably be easiest if you flooed, until you get to know the island of course."

"OK."

"Splendid, I will look forward to it and hope that those parrots of mine will be on their best behaviour. They can be very moody sometimes. I shall see you this evening, then."

Ginny laughed and nodded.

Turning, Adriana made her way up the beach, her light jacket swinging from her shoulders.

Feeling slightly bemused at her own actions, Ginny gathered the rest of her things together and set off for the hotel. She admired the easygoing manner of the Ethosian people; all were open and welcoming, and on learning that she was new to the island were taking pains to get to know her. It seemed that British pomposity had no place on this sunny island with its open friendly inhabitants and she wasn't sorry. During the short walk down to the marine reserve that morning, she had been accosted by a number of people, wishing her good day and as she was a new face, like Adriana, interested to know more about her, a far cry from Britain where everyone was too busy to stop and chat.

Around her, the beach was filling up with chattering families, although as it wasn't the holiday season, it was not too crowded. She felt an unexpected pang of home sickness at the sight of them. Maybe she would suggest that her parents come out to the Island for a break. They would love both the beauty of the place and the laid back people. She breathed in another lungful of the warm breeze when a voice beside her made her turn her head.

"Hello Ginny, how are you this morning?"

Blaise Zabini, dressed casually in an open necked shirt and cotton trousers, was walking beside her, his eyes glinting as they moved over her dishevelled form in its enveloping green costume. She noticed that women all around them were eyeing him with covert interest from behind beach umbrellas and sunhats shading their faces. A spurt of irritation seized her and she scowled. Maybe not everything on this island was ideal after all.

"Hello," she responded in a flat voice, not looking at him. Trust him to ruin her feeling of contentment.

"Ray said that you've been out observing the sharks, did you enjoy it?" he asked, easily keeping pace with her quickened steps.

"Yes, thanks."

"I was wondering, as you don't really know anyone here yet, would you like me to take you on a tour of the island? We can do it either by carriage or boat."

Taken aback by his words, Ginny turned to him. "Thanks Zabini, that's nice-"

"It's Blaise, Ginny," he corrected firmly. "We aren't school children any more. So how about it? We can do the tour using both. You can't see the beauty of the coral wreaths in the carriage and on the yacht, it's difficult to make out the island's birdlife."

She sighed wistfully to herself; it must be nice having a yacht of your own. Maybe one day, she would meet a rich man who would keep her in the style she dreamed of. The absurdity of the thought made her smile and she quickly stifled it before he misconstrued its meaning.

Stiffly she replied, "Well, as I said, it's really nice of you to offer, but I haven't much spare time. Anyway, I couldn't ask you to give up so much of your own time to escort me around."

"Why not? It was I who made the offer. If I didn't want to , I wouldn't have suggested it in the first place," he countered swiftly.

"I know, but still, I couldn't ask it of you. Anyway, I'd better get on, chatting on the beach won't get my paperwork completed and my manager in Britain is a stickler for punctuality." She gave him a polite smile which held no warmth.

"But why not?" he protested turning her to face him. "It'll be nice for you to see the island with someone you already know."

Her expression was cool and detached. "I appreciate the offer, I really do, but as I said, I've not much free time, and you're very busy as well. Anyway, we don't really know each other so there's no obligation on you." If that didn't get the message across, she didn't know what would.

"I'm aware of that thank you. As for free time, no one expects you to work all the time; I'll have a word with Ray about it."

Biting back her irritation at his high-handed manner, she shook her head. "There's no need for that. I enjoy my job and it's so beautiful beneath the water here that I'd happily spend all my time working."

He looked as though he may argue, his firm mouth tightening, but then nodded, apparently accepting her answer. "Of course. Well, if there's anything you need, just say." With that, he turned and walked away, his movements graceful.

Entering the cool interior of the hotel, Ginny went to her suite and took a cool shower. The day she asked Blaise Zabini for anything, would be a sorry day indeed.

It was as she was combing out her long hair that a voice in the fireplace of the sitting room called, "Miss Weasley?"

Swiftly she hurried into the room and over to the fireplace and kneeling down, saw the head of one of the hotel staff looking back at her.

"Sorry to disturb you, miss, but you have a long distance Floo call, from England. Is it ok if I put it through?"

"Yes of course." She watched as the dark head withdrew and a moment later, her mother's face appeared in the green flames.

"Ginny, there you are. We've been trying to get hold of you for hours, where were you?" Molly Weasley exclaimed.

"Hello to you too, Mum. How are you?" Ginny replied coolly. She could guess the reason for the call and sure enough, Molly's next words confirmed this.

"Ginny, what happened? First thing this morning Brian came round to say that you had broken things off with him. Why?"

"He said what?" Ginny exploded angrily. "It was him who said that he didn't want to carry on with the engagement."

"Well, can you blame him? Your ring snapped for Merlin's sake. What did you expect him to say?" Molly retorted. "What your father and I want to know is why."

"Join the club, I'd like to know that myself," Ginny replied irritably.

"But Ginny, there must have been a reason, rings don't just snap," the older woman persisted shaking her head.

"If there is one, I certainly don't know it."

Her mother's forehead creased into a frown. "What were you doing last night?" she asked eventually.

"I had a meal with the middle-aged manager of the marine reserve and one of his friends. Then I danced for a bit and the ring snapped," she responded shortly.

"You didn't…well-"

"No, Mum, I didn't sleep with anyone or anything of the sort. What do you take me for?" Ginny scowled, correctly interpreting her mother's hesitancy.

The older woman sighed. "Brian's very angry about it and the papers are having a field day."

"I'll just bet they are, I'm glad I'm not there to witness it. By the time I get back, it'll have died down and the press will have found someone else to talk about. You'd think they'd have nothing better to do than gossip."

"Doesn't it bother you? Your engagement's come to an end, most women would be distraught."

Ginny bit back a sigh of irritation. "Mum, the ring's snapped, meaning the engagement's at an end. My crying about it won't solve anything." Deciding to get the worst over with, she added, "Anyway, I was having second thoughts about Brian. We're so incompatible and I'm not even sure I liked him much by the end."

"I don't understand you. One moment you're happily engaged, the next you're glad it's over."

"Cheer up, I may find someone out here. There're plenty of good looking men about, you know, tall and muscular." An image of Blaise Zabini's sculptured features flashed into her mind and impatiently she shook her head to rid herself of it.

"But Ginny, you're 23 now, high time you were married. Why, at your age, I had one child with another on the way. If you remain single for too much longer, all the eligible men will be snapped up, then what will you do?" Molly said in a worried voice. The idea of being a career woman was one which Ginny well knew, her mother disliked.

"Oh for heaven's sake Mum! There's more to life than getting married and having babies! The ring probably snapped because Brian and I weren't suited. As for finding someone else, what's the hurry? I'm young with my whole life ahead of me. The world won't end if I decide to remain single. In fact, I'm glad I am, at least now I can flirt with any man I like out here without worrying." The two women had had this argument at the culmination of each of Ginny's relationships with what her mother considered to be suitable men. She was becoming heartily sick of it.

"We've looked forward to planning your wedding for so long," Molly sighed changing tack, "at this rate, we'll never see you married."

She was starting on the emotional blackmail and Ginny knew that if she didn't end the call soon, she would be made to feel guilty for something she could not help. Hurriedly she said, "Mum, I must go. I've a write up to do about this morning's observations. I'll speak to you soon. Give my love to Dad. "

Reluctantly her mother nodded, and a moment later her head had disappeared, leaving the grate empty.

Ginny got up and went across to the balcony. Below, she could see witches and wizards lounging on deckchairs or on picnic blankets, soaking up the Caribbean sun. As she watched, she felt her tension melt away. What had happened the night before had been unsettling to say the least, but maybe it was for the best. She felt as though a weight had been lifted from her and hoped that Brian wasn't too angry. Knowing him, he would be, remaining so for the next few decades. She would do some work after lunch, and in the evening would visit Greenlawns.

Her mind turned to Adriana Harringdon. She couldn't make her out; on one hand the woman exuded snobbishness in waves, but she had invited Ginny to her home, which in itself suggested that she wasn't as arrogant as she looked. Maybe she was one of those women whose bark was worse than her bite? Somehow Ginny doubted this.

Ginny's mind switched to Blaise and the invitation he had issued on her walk back to the hotel. Now that had been a surprise, and not altogether an unpleasant one. The man was extremely attractive, but Ginny felt an innate wariness of him that she could not explain. Maybe it was remnants of the dislike she had harboured as a girl, but she doubted it. It had been a long time since their Hogwarts days after all and a lot had happened to both of them since that time. He was far too sure of himself for her liking and made her feel nervous for reasons she couldn't explain. She wasn't used to feeling that way when talking to a man and didn't like it one bit.

She would steer clear of him as much as possible while she was here. She suspected the only reason he was taking an interest in her was because she was the newest female on the island. He would soon lose interest and leave her be. So deciding, she made her way downstairs to where lunch was being served.

XoXoXoXo

Standing in front of her wardrobe, Ginny wondered what to wear. She didn't know if the dinner would be formal or not. After a moment's thought, she pulled out a calf length chiffon lined skirt in pale green and a silk white halterneck top. If the morning was anything to go buy, her hostess would be dressed in the height of fashion; no jeans for her! Dressing quickly, Ginny put her recently acquired camera into her evening bag. She wanted to get some moving shots of the Habetans to show her colleagues in England.

Checking her lightly made up face and neatly coiled hair once more in the dressing table mirror, she picked up her wand and bag, and made her way downstairs to the busy reception area.

"Hi Ginny," Cheryl called, waving at her from behind the well polished reception desk.

Ginny went across to her smiling. "Is it ok to use the hotel's Floo?" she asked.

"Sure, where are you off to?" Cheryl enquired, handing a harassed looking wizard with two toddlers registration forms.

"It's called Greenlawns, do you know it?"

The other girls eyes widened in surprise. "Sure I know it, who doesn't? I've never been there though, lucky you. It's the biggest house on the Island."

"Adriana Harringdon invited me round for the evening."

"Did she now? That's not like her," Cheryl mused. "She doesn't usually fraternise with the likes of us. The old cow must be after something. Watch out for her."

"You don't like her do you?" Ginny grinned.

"Can you blame me? She looks at you like there's a nasty smell under her nose. The house is supposed to be really lovely though. Shame she lives in it."

"I must admit I too was surprised when she started chatting to me on the beach this morning. It seems that she has some Habetans, I've never even seen one," Ginny explained.

Cheryl laughed. "You and your animals. Just be careful they don't crap on that outfit. Then you won't be so happy."

"Thanks a bunch," Ginny smiled rolling her eyes. "The clothes can always be cleaned. Anyway, I'd best be off or I'll be late."

"Let me know how it goes." Cheryl waved as Ginny moved towards the marble fireplace on the other side of the large room. Taking up a pinch of Floo powder, she threw it into the flames and stepped in.

"Greenlawns," she called and was whisked out of sight. The Floo ride was a short one and soon she was slowing down, coming to a halt in another large marble fireplace. Stepping out, she looked round her with interest while shaking her skirt free of any soot.

The hall in which she stood was wide, with a white marble floor. Portraits in heavy gilded frames dotted the walls, which were painted a pale lemon colour. A bowl of artfully arranged flowers stood on a low table and there were several doors leading off in different directions. Wooden shutters stood open, letting in the last of the sun's rays, and wide green lawns and a flower garden were visible through them. The air was fragrant with the smell of flowers.

"Ah Ginevra, you are punctual indeed." Adriana entered the room in a rustle of silk. As Ginny had guessed, she was wearing a sleeveless russet coloured dress with a full skirt, cut very low at the front. She smiled with approval, viewing Ginny's outfit. "You look very nice. Come, I have been looking forward to this evening."

"Thanks," Ginny smiled, looking round her as Adriana led her down the spacious hall.

She pushed open a door and stood aside to let Ginny go first. Ginny entered the well proportioned room, done out in shades of ivory and bronze.

"Take a seat," she smiled, shutting the door and ushering Ginny to a white leather sofa. "I trust the hotel did not mind you using their Floo?"

"Oh no, not in the least. They're really nice."

The other woman's eyes narrowed. "I should think so, too."

Ginny opened her mouth to defend the hotel staff but bit back the words. Antagonising her hostess before she had seen the Habetans was not a good move. She wondered whether it had been a good idea to come here; Adriana was not normally the type of person she would elect to spend time with.

"Ginevra, I believe you are already acquainted with my son, Blaise," Adriana said with a smile as the door opened and Blaise Zabini sauntered in. He wore perfectly cut evening clothes, which had probably been made exclusively for him. His silk shirt was again open at the neck, showing off to perfection his tanned skin and well muscled torso.

Ginny felt her heart sink and she stiffened. Now she knew that it definitely had not been a good idea on her part to accept this invite. It seemed, although whether by design or accident, that she kept coming across this man who screamed danger from every pore.

Blaise however was not in the least perturbed; he strode across to her and taking her hand placed a kiss on the back of it.

"This is an unexpected pleasure," he purred. "When mother said that she had invited a young lady for dinner, I hadn't realised that it would be you."

Ginny bit back a gasp at the sensation of his mouth on her skin; it felt as though her hand had been burned where his lips had touched it. Tingles were shooting up her arm, making her stomach contract with feelings she could not identify. Swiftly, she snatched her hand away, resisting the urge to rub the spot where his mouth had been.

"I wasn't aware that you lived here," she replied through stiff lips.

"Well, when Blaise said that he would not be going out as intended, I thought it would be nice for the three of us to have dinner. He will be company for you, Ginevra, someone of your own age to talk too," Adriana explained.

Blaise laughed easily. "I had intended to dine with Theo, but he's otherwise occupied this evening. I much prefer this arrangement."

Ginny's smile felt fixed to her face and she wanted to scream. She couldn't believe that she had blithely accepted this dinner invitation, she should have listened to her common sense and steered clear of Adriana. Now she would be spending her second evening on the island with Blaise bloody Zabini, and she wasn't pleased. Raising her left hand she brushed a strand of hair impatiently out of her eyes and saw the eyes of both Adriana and Blaise fix themselves to her bare ring finger. No doubt they had read of her broken engagement in the English papers and were wondering about it. Well let them wonder!

"What would you like to drink?" Blaise asked solicitously, moving to a teak drinks cabinet at one side of the ornate fireplace.

"Guava juice please," Ginny replied, her voice stilted. She stared down into the Waterford Crystal glass Blaise handed her, watching Adriana covertly over the rim. So this was the woman who had disposed of seven husbands. She certainly didn't look like a killer, but then who did? Ginny wondered how she'd gone about it.

The feel of Blaise's arm brushing against hers as he sat down startled her and she turned to look at him.

"You were miles away," he smiled. "Were you thinking about anything interesting?"

"I suppose that depends on what you classify as interesting," she responded coolly, taking a sip of the sweet guava juice.

Adriana gave a tinkling laugh as she surveyed them. "Blaise, let the poor girl be. She is new to the island and no doubt all this is very strange to her."

Ginny's brows rose and she asked, "What's strange to me?"

The older woman looked taken aback for a moment, then recovered herself. "Well, all this my dear." She waved a vague hand round the room and Ginny's annoyance, already sorely tested, grew.

"You mean your home?" she persisted.

"She means the island," Blaise drawled. "Mother dear, you must be more specific, not everyone understands your vagueness of speech."

"Yes, I mean the island Ginevra. You said yourself that this was your first visit, it must be strange coming to an all wizarding island where everything from the wildlife to the food is different," Adriana corroborated hurriedly.

"Oh, I wouldn't call it strange in the least, just different," Ginny countered in a cool voice. Adriana, she decided, was a patronising snob. She'd come across the likes of her before, and would not put up with the woman's insulting manner.

"Have you travelled a lot then?" Adriana asked, in an effort to defuse the tense atmosphere.

Ginny shrugged. "Here and there, whenever I've had time."

The appearance of a house elf announcing dinner forestalled any further conversation. Blaise drew Ginny's arm through his own, in what seemed to her a proprietary gesture, as they made their way out of the room.

"Relax," he smiled, pressing her arm against his side as they followed Adriana to the dining room.

The room they entered was not as large as Ginny had expected. A circular teak dining table was laid for three, the silver and crystal sparkling in the light of many candles suspended over the table. The high ceiling, like that of the Hogwarts great hall, seemed to reflect the sky outside. Large windows looked out onto a paved terrace and Ginny could see an orange tree just below this, the branches moving in the light breeze.

"Do you like it?" Blaise asked, drawing out her chair and waiting for her to be seated before taking his place on Ginny's left at the head of the table. Adriana seated herself on his other side opposite Ginny.

"It reminds me of Hogwarts," Ginny replied looking up at the ceiling which was slowly darkening to a midnight blue.

"Oh, it is a little more sophisticated than the ceiling at Hogwarts; this one only shows us nice weather," Adriana responded while shaking out her napkin.

Her own voice saccharine sweet, Ginny answered, "Oh I don't know. Personally I prefer simplicity over complexity; it's best to see the real truth in things, and not hide an illusion within an illusion."

Adriana blinked taken aback. No doubt she wasn't used to others contradicting her.

Ginny stiffened as she felt Blaise's breath on her neck. "Here," he murmured, taking the linen napkin out of its silver ring and draping it over her lap, his fingers brushing lightly over hers as he straightened. She felt goose bumps rising up her arms at his proximity and silently chided herself for her ridiculous reaction.

"Thanks," she muttered, trying valiantly to keep her breathing under control.

"We are having British food this evening; I was not sure whether you liked Caribbean food," Adriana continued recovering her poise.

"It's lovely. I've a friend from Antigua who sometimes cooks it for me so it's not new to me," Ginny said.

"Oh?" Blaise asked sharply, resuming his seat. "Anyone I know?"

She regarded him dispassionately, thankful he had moved away. "You may do, he was in your year at school. Dean Thomas. Do you remember him?"

"Yes. I wasn't aware you were still in contact with him." His expression had darkened.

"Of course I am! He's a friend!"

"An ex-boyfriend if memory serves me right."

She frowned not liking the harsh tone of his voice. "So?"

He shrugged. "I just wondered, that's all. What does he do now?"

"He works for the Ministry."

"That is good," Adriana smiled. "It is nice to keep in touch with old friends. Why I have known some of my friends since we were young children together." She shot Blaise a look that Ginny couldn't interpret and went on, "Ginevra, you will have some wine? It is from our own vineyards."

Ginny nodded and Blaise filled her glass.

"I propose a toast," he said lifting his own glass. "To the future and new friendships."

"Definitely," Adriana beamed.

"I suppose so," Ginny agreed, and reluctantly chinked glasses with the other two, while wondering what Blaise had meant by such a cryptic toast.

A house-elf she hadn't noticed placed a dish of asparagus and coriander soup before Ginny and she inhaled the rich aroma with pleasure. This soup was one of her favourites.

"Bon appetit," Blaise smiled, lifting his own spoon.

Ginny tasted the soup and would have purred in satisfaction if she had been able. It was just as she liked it, thick, richly flavoured and creamy on the palette.

"Is the soup to your liking?" Adriana enquired solicitously, watching her.

"Yes, it's lovely, just the way my mum makes it," she responded, trying not to sound surprised.

"We aim to please." Blaise's eyes lingered on her in a way that made her uncomfortable.

"So, my dear, tell us more about yourself," Adriana invited while buttering a roll.

"Oh there's nothing to tell really," Ginny shrugged, accepting a roll from the basket Blaise offered her. "I'm on a working break and loving it here. I miss my family and friends, though."

"What's Weasley doing now?" Blaise asked. "I heard that he and Granger had got married."

"Yes, Ron and Hermione got married a few months ago and are very happy together," she confirmed, surprised that he had asked about Ron, with whom he had never got on.

"That is nice," Adriana sighed. "I do love a wedding, I must say. When it is Blaise's turn we will throw the biggest party this side of the Atlantic."

"So you've someone in mind?" Ginny asked with interest, looking at Blaise who shook his head.

"Oh there's plenty of time for that," he dismissed. Then enquired, "So how're the rest of your family?"

Surprised at his uncharacteristic interest in people he had hitherto scorned, she said, "They're all fine, thanks."

"Am I right in thinking you have five elder brothers?" Adriana asked.

Ginny grimaced. "No, six and none of them can accept the fact that I'm grown up and don't need protecting from the big wide world any more."

"That, my dear, is families all over. Parents especially can never stop worrying about their children. I will probably still worry about Blaise when I am in my dotage," the older woman smiled. "Your family will always worry about you, it is perfectly natural."

"But nevertheless annoying," Blaise put in.

The soup dishes were removed and chicken marinated in white wine put before them. This was another dish Ginny was very fond of. Helping herself to carrots, broccoli and potatoes, she was relieved that she hadn't been obliged to eat food she didn't like.

Adriana laughed. "I am glad to see you are not one of those young ladies who will not eat because of her figure."

Ginny shook her head. "Merlin no. I don't have time for such women. I was brought up to enjoy and appreciate food. If you want to lose weight, starving yourself isn't the way to go about it."

"Quite," Blaise agreed, leaning over and refilling her glass. "There's nothing as off-putting as a woman who picks at her food." His mouth twisted in distaste and Ginny wondered how many women had done just that when he took them out. She suspected quite a few.

"My job uses up a lot of energy, so it's important for me to eat well," she replied neutrally.

"How long have you been working with the marine reserve?" he asked, helping himself to more vegetables.

"About two years. I really enjoy it."

Adriana shuddered delicately. "What, with all those sharks? It is enough to scare one senseless."

Ginny grinned. "Oh they're ok if you know how to handle them. Actually, they're fascinating, and like most creatures, will only attack if they feel threatened."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Ginny, they're monsters who can kill with a single bite, how can you say they're interesting?"

"You sound like my fiancé," Ginny said without thinking. "He can't believe I like them either."

A tense silence greeted these words and she saw that the expressions on mother and son's faces had frozen.

"Your fiancé? But you're not engaged to him anymore." Blaise stared pointedly at her ring finger. "It was in the Prophet this morning." His expression was complacent as he watched her.

Later she would wonder why she did it, but a perverse streak in her made her raise her chin and stare haughtily back, defiance rising within her. How dare he derive such satisfaction from her broken engagement? His attitude coupled with her anger at herself for bringing it up in the first place made her say, "The Prophet? You know what they're like, they hear something and blow it up into a story. It's true my ring snapped, last night as it happens, but we'll get it fixed or choose another one. We haven't decide which yet." She kept her voice light and unconcerned, while inwardly wincing at the lie. She didn't know why she was doing this, but something in Blaise's smug expression had got to her. She would be damned before she let him gloat over her broken engagement.

"But you can't," he protested, leaning forward in his seat. He no longer looked smug, but almost panicky. "Ginny, the ring snapped for a reason."

"Yeah, it wasn't made correctly. It's our own fault, we were in a hurry to get engaged and didn't give the jeweller enough time to set it properly." She gave a deprecating shrug to underline her words.

"Well, I very much doubt it," Adriana contributed. "It does not take very long for a jeweller to set an engagement ring. Who did you use?"

"Lambert and Co," Ginny answered.

"They are one of the best," the older woman responded, something which Ginny well knew.

"Exactly, this must mean that you're not compatible." Blaise sat back, the tension draining out of him as though the matter had been settled.

Ginny was by now thoroughly annoyed; who was he to tell her that Brian and she weren't compatible? Pasting a smile on her face, she shook her head. "Ah, but if that had been the case, the ring wouldn't have set in the first place. It doesn't matter really, we'll get another one when I get back to England."

"No!" Blaise's eyes had darkened until they were black, his posture radiating what she presumed to be anger. He took a deep breath and continued in a more controlled voice, "Ginny, it won't work, you know that. It's difficult, I know, but you have to move on in life. He's not the only man in the world, and by the sound of it, you probably weren't suited."

Adriana too nodded. "It is true my dear, the breaking of an engagement for unexplained reasons can be very stressful on the nerves, but there is always a good reason behind it. Not long ago, there was a girl on the island whose ring broke in just such a manner. It turned out her young man had been carrying on with another woman behind her back."

"Well, I know that Brian wasn't carrying on behind my back," Ginny replied stubbornly, more determined than ever to get the better of these two. "Rings can snap from wear and tear as well. Next time we'll make sure the band is nice and thick. On the other hand maybe we won't bother and just get married instead. Brian suggested as much." She furrowed her brow in the pretence of thought.

The crash behind Ginny made her jump in surprise. Wheeling round, she saw that a crystal decanter, sitting on the calved sideboard behind her, had smashed. Fragments of glass littered the floor and the whisky it had contained was spreading in an amber pool on the parquet floor.

"Merlin, how did that happen?" She turned to Blaise, whose expression was frozen. Adriana however, was looking uneasy.

"There is no need to worry, it can easily be fixed," she said, standing up and waving her wand at the spillage. Immediately, the whisky disappeared. Another wave of her wand and the decanter had repaired itself.

Feeling tense, Ginny watched her. "How did that happen?" she asked again.

"Who knows?" Blaise drawled, a mocking glint in his eyes. Adriana shot him a speaking glance and Ginny had the impression there was something they weren't telling her. Maybe they always treated their dinner guests to a smashed decanter or two? She wouldn't put it past them.

"I am sorry if it frightened you, Ginevra," Adriana said, resuming her seat. "That decanter has been frail for a while now. It was only a matter of time until it cracked."

Ginny nodded and said nothing, knowing that Adriana was lying.

The main course was cleared away and a bowl of chocolate mousse was placed before her. It smelled wonderful, but her appetite had deserted her.

"You don't like it?" Blaise asked, watching her distractedly prodding the fluffy mixture with her spoon.

"It's very nice." She ate a spoonful and on any other day would have relished it. Now, though, she was feeling on edge. The smashed decanter had disturbed her more than she liked to admit and all she wanted to do was get away from this house. Growing up in a family of volatile-tempered brothers, she had been witness to more than her fair share of bursts of accidental magic. She was sure that it was a burst of accidental magic that had caused the decanter to smash, but from whom and more importantly, why?

A sharp tap on her arm made her turn her head to see Blaise frowning at her. "I've called you three times now, but you were miles away," he grumbled.

"Sorry, what did you say?" she asked, laying down her spoon and giving up all pretence of eating.

"I asked whether you'd prefer another dessert, as this one isn't to your liking."

"Oh no, thanks. The mousse is lovely, but I'm not hungry anymore."

"Are you sure?" Adriana asked giving Ginny a quizzical look, which she met with a stony gaze.

Ginny nodded, relieved when Adriana changed the subject, asking, "Do you play Quidditch, Ginevra?"

"Oh yes, I love it," she enthused, her mind partially diverted.

"You were certainly someone to be reckoned with during our school days," Blaise reminisced, his mouth curving into a fond smile.

"I've been playing since I was six, when Mum and my brothers let me that was," she explained, grimacing slightly. At their questioning looks, she elaborated, "Mum and Dad worried I'd get hurt, while the boys wouldn't play with me because I was a girl."

"That is difficult," Adriana agreed diplomatically.

Ginny's eyes sparkled. "Oh no, if anything it made me more determined."

"We play a lot of Quidditch on the island. There's a match scheduled for tomorrow, in fact," Blaise informed her.

The desserts were cleared away by the efficient house-elves and Ginny was relieved the meal was over.

"Now, shall we have coffee first or would you like to see the parrots, Ginevra?" Adriana put her napkin on the table and stood up.

Blaise drew out Ginny's chair, and she also stood, conscious of his lean form behind her.

"Do you mind if we see the parrots?" she asked as he drew her arm through his.

Adriana laughed, "Of course, my dear."

Blaise sighed deeply. "What you find so interesting about them, I don't know."

"Blaise, they are pretty," his mother pouted. Ginny wondered if she had any idea of the Habetan parrots' magical properties. If she bred them purely for their looks, she was even shallower than Ginny had first imagined.

As though she had read Ginny's thoughts, Adriana continued, "Anyway, they are very magical. The feathers shed by them are used in many healing potions, and they are good messengers."

"Well, let's get this over with then," he sighed as they followed Adriana's tall figure out of the room.

"You don't have to come, you know," Ginny smiled sweetly.

"What sort of host would I be if I left you to look at the parrots alone?"

"But your mother will be with me," she replied, hoping that he would take himself off somewhere. To her chagrin , he shook his head.

"No, I'll endure it, just to please you."

"There's no need for that, I don't mind in the least if you'd prefer to leave us to it," she responded quickly, but he laughed throatily.

"No, no, my dear Ginny, that'd never do. Pleasing you is what's important here, and if that means cooing over Mother's parrots, then who am I to refuse?"

She decided it wasn't worth arguing over and so nodded.

XoXoXoXo

"They're absolutely amazing," Ginny gushed as they shut the door of the aviary and made their way through the spacious corridors into the drawing room.

"Definitely," Adriana agreed, smiling. "Once you can get them to pay attention to you, they are quite entertaining. As I said, once the chicks are a little older, you are welcome to one."

"But they're so valuable," Ginny protested, allowing Blaise to push her down onto a white leather sofa.

"It would be our pleasure," he assured sitting beside her. "Something for you to remember us by when in England."

"Another week or so should do it," Adriana predicted as the coffee tray was carried in by a smiling elf. "You can have first pick."

"Thanks very much, but are you sure?"

"Of course." She handed Ginny her coffee and sat back down. "They can be very rude when the mood takes them, though. I hope they did not offend you."

Ginny burst out laughing. "What, being called carrot head? It's a pretty creative insult for a bird. Still, they soon got used to me."

"You have an affinity with them which always helps." Blaise leaned back, resting his arm along the back of the sofa so it rested on Ginny's shoulders.

She became aware of the taughtness of his thigh against hers, how there was barely any space between their bodies, and the weight of his bare, muscular arm resting on her shoulders. She felt her breath catching and knew that his proximity was having an effect on her. Darting a glance at him, she saw he looked as composed as ever, and was angry with herself for her reaction. No man so far had been able to make her feel like this, and he hadn't turned on the charm yet!

Jumping up, she went over to the windows, looking out on to the well kept lawns stretched out below her. It was high time she left and so she hurriedly drank her hot coffee, almost scalding her throat.

"It's been a lovely evening," she said turning to her hostess, putting the bone china cup on a side table. "I had better be going."

"Why?" Blaise asked, coming to stand beside her.

"I have to get up early tomorrow and its 10:20 already," she excused, glancing at her watch.

"That is a shame," Adriana sighed. "It seems they work you far too hard at the Reserve."

"I love it," Ginny smiled, picking up her evening bag. "May I use your Floo?"

"Certainly," the older woman agreed. Then she called, "Atlan?"

There was a crack and a house elf appeared at her side. "Get the Floo terminal ready for Ginevra's use."

The corners of the elf's mouth drooped and it shook its head.

"Atlan can't, mistress, the Floo is out of order."

"What?" Adriana asked in surprise.

"The Floo is not working, mistress. Atlan tried to send the letter to Waxbies as mistress instructed, but couldn't as the Floo broke down."

"Damn!" Adriana scowled. "The Floo system always seems to be breaking down since they installed that speed booster. It probably will not be sorted until tomorrow morning, if I am any judge."

"I could Apparate," Ginny volunteered hurriedly. "It won't be a problem."

"What, and get splinched?" Blaise put in.

"Of course I won't get splinched," she flashed back, irritated. "I've been Apparating since I was seventeen, I think I can managed this one without any trouble."

"It's a different country, the air currents of which are completely different from Britain's, so it's best not to risk it until you've tried it under controlled conditions," he returned.

"Blaise is right, Ginevra," Adriana put in. "I think it best if you escort her back in one of the carriages, Blaise."

He nodded. "Yes, I can show Ginny the scenery as we pass. It's worth looking at."

Adriana turned back to the elf. "Tell Simes to be ready with the Palimar carriage."

Ginny's heart sank; she didn't want to be on her own in a carriage with Blaise Zabini, the mere thought was making her nerves prickle with something she could not name.

"I don't want to cause you any trouble," she began, to be interrupted by an impatient Blaise.

"It's no trouble, now shall we go?"

She would have liked to say no, but knew she couldn't verbalise her reluctance without sounding rude and ridiculous. Her fingers tightened on her bag which held her wand and she nodded stiffly.

"It has been lovely meeting you, Ginevra," Adriana said, accompanying them outside where a gleaming silver carriage waited. "We must meet again, and soon. Maybe we can go shopping together, there is a very nice collection of shops not too far from here."

Ginny smiled politely. "That sounds nice. Thanks for dinner and for letting me see the Habetans, they're wonderful."

"It was my pleasure, I will let you know when the chicks are ready to leave their mother and you can choose one." She bent and kissed Ginny's cheek.

A man dressed in blue and bronze livery stood to one side, holding the door to the carriage open. Ginny noted it bore the Zabini coat of arms, a silver hawk brandishing a wand.

Ignoring Blaise's helping hand she climbed into the plush interior of the carriage, returning Adriana's wave as the door was shut behind Blaise, who got in beside her.

She watched Simes climb into the driver's seat, partitioned off from the rest of the carriage. The interior of the carriage was done out in silver and blue, with leather seats facing each other. Velvet curtains hung at the windows and a small bar was set to one side of the carriage.

"Would you like anything to drink?" Blaise asked, leaning back beside her, his arm brushing hers.

"No thanks." She felt the carriage start to move, and quickly looked out of the window to forestall further conversation. They were rising into the air, the movement barely perceptible. Soon they were above the bungalow and gliding smoothly over fields and trees.

"Wow, it's beautiful," Ginny breathed, looking down at the landscape below her. They were not very high so it was easy to make out the shapes of houses, restaurants and cafes all with light spilling from windows.

To break the uncomfortable silence she asked, "I've never seen a carriage like this, how does it work?"

"It's been fitted with lots of flying, unbreakable and Merlin knows what other charms, a bit like a broomstick. It's very handy as you don't need thestrals or other creatures to pull it. So much nicer than a flying carpet."

"Yes, I can see that."

"Look over there," Blaise murmured behind her, reaching round and putting his hand under her chin. She started at the contact with his cool fingers and tried to jerk away. It was then she realised that his other arm had come round her, his hand resting on the window frame. She was trapped.

"How long will the journey take?" she asked uneasily, trying to ignore the feel of his body against her back.

"Another few minutes. The carriage is going slowly so you can appreciate the view." His breath was stirring the hairs on the back of her neck and she felt her heart beat quicken.

They were now passing over groves of mango, orange, banana, and papaya trees. All were in bloom, their flowers riotous and colourful, picked out by the lights of the carriage.

"It's so lovely," Ginny said again.

"Definitely. Just imagine living here all year round," Blaise drawled.

"That'd be heaven," she sighed eyes still glued to the window as she tried to ignore the way his breath caressed her cheek.

"You never know." A silence fell between them and Ginny was profoundly relieved when the carriage began to descend. They must have reached the hotel. A moment later, there was a slight bump and they landed.

She saw Simes climb out of the driver's seat and come round to her door. He opened it and she alighted, looking round her.

"Where are we?" she asked, turning to Blaise who had climbed out behind her.

"A little way from the hotel," he replied. "Simes, wait for me here."

Turning to Ginny, he wrapped an arm round her shoulders. "Come, it's a short walk up the beach to the hotel."

"Why couldn't the carriage have parked outside the hotel?" she asked, trying to extricate herself from his grip. She may as well have not bothered.

"There's nowhere to park there," he smiled, teeth glinting in the light of the moon.

He lead her out from behind the palms where the carriage was parked, and towards the strip of sand edging the calm sea. She could clearly make out the water's reflection by the white light of the moon and stars.

"There's no one around," she commented, unease taking hold of her as she scanned their surroundings for signs of other people. She was conscious of his athletic body towering over her diminutive frame. It was never a good idea to be alone with a strange man, and especially this man!

"Well, no."

"Why not?" she had quickened her steps as she spoke.

"I don't know, this is an area where people like to enjoy solitude."

She rolled her eyes in disbelief, what did he take her for? "I very much doubt it."

"You don't have much faith in me, do you?"

"No."

"Why not?"

She could have given several sarcastic answers to this, but in view of the fact they were alone on a beach, and she only had a vague idea of where they were, she decided against it. "Because you're a stranger, and naturally, I can't be expected to trust someone I don't know." To emphasise this, she tried to push his arm from her shoulders but he simply tightened it, forcing their bodies closer together.

"I'm less of a stranger to you compared to everyone else here, though," he countered.

"In some respects, I suppose."

Their footsteps were silent in the hard sand and in other circumstances, Ginny would have relished the romantic setting. The lapping of the waves against the shore provided a soothing background to a scene of stunning beauty, and despite herself, Ginny felt the tension easing out of her.

"I can't see the hotel yet," she ventured, straining her eyes into the distance.

"It's further along here, we'll be there soon. Do you like it here Ginny?"

She nodded, surprised at the change of topic. "It's very beautiful and relaxing."

"I lived here as a child and returned when Hogwarts was closed down. A far cry from England." He stopped walking, seeming to be deep in thought. "How time moves on, you don't even notice it."

She stood beside him, gazing out to sea, unsure how to interpret his change of mood. Slowly he turned her to face him, and she looked up at him, trying to decipher his expression.

"You're very beautiful, you know that?" He trailed a finger down her cheek to her throat, and she felt her breath hitch in response to the delicate touch.

She swallowed, aware of the deserted beach around them, and of the effect his touch was having on her. She should move away and stop this while she could.

Blaise, as though reading her mind, slid an arm round her, trapping her slender body against him. "I can't think straight when I'm near you," he muttered, lifting her face.

"No," she whispered, knowing what was coming, but he didn't seem to hear as he lowered his mouth to hers in a gentle but persistent kiss.

She gasped against his lips as sensations she had never experienced shot through her body. It felt as though her mouth had become extra sensitised under his expert ministrations, and she was unable to pull away as he moved his mouth gently over hers, teasing her lips into compliance. Soon his tongue was probing at the seem of her lips, and he slid it into her mouth, entwining it round hers. His grip on her body had tightened, his eyes darkening until the pupils were black slits as his gaze devoured her. She didn't resist as his tongue probed every corner of her mouth, shuddering as he sucked her full lower lip into his own mouth.

Ginny was unaware she was kissing him back, her body seemingly out of her control as she pressed herself against him, mindless of her earlier dislike of him. In some dim recess of her mind, she knew this was very wrong, but her subconscious worry that there was something wrong with her was finally being disproved and right now this was more important than her conscience. Their tongues were entwined and it felt good letting him ravage her like this.

With a groan, Blaise tore his mouth from hers, arching her backwards and tracing scorching kisses over her jaw, and down her neck to her throat. One hand was splayed possessively over her back, while the other had tangled in her hair, pulling it from its confining pins to fall in untidy main down her back. His mouth had reached the slender column of her throat, his tongue lightly teasing the sensitise flesh so the pulse at her throat beat erratically. Ginny's breath was coming in shallow pants as she tried to make sense of what was happening.

"No!" she gasped, shaking her head and trying to pull away. "No, stop!"

Blinking, Blaise straightened, looking at her with glazed eyes. "What?"

"We shouldn't…we can't…" she trailed off, trying to think straight and finding it difficult.

Blaise however, had no such problems, his glazed expression fast disappearing. "We kissed Ginny, the world hasn't ended you know!"

He made to draw her to him again but she jerked away, taking a few steps back and inhaling deep breaths of the salty sea air. Her mind was rapidly clearing and the full import of what they had done dawning on her. Anger, she wasn't sure whether at herself or him, was starting to build up and she narrowed her eyes, glaring at him.

"To you, Zabini, this is probably no more than the natural end to an evening spent in a woman's company. I however, operate on different principles and am not in the habit of kissing strange men. That's why this unfortunate interlude is so disturbing."

His relaxed expression had disappeared, and he too looked angry. "For your information, I don't kiss every woman I dine with. What do you take me for? As for your principles, where were they a moment ago?"

Choosing not to answer his last question, she flashed back, "I won't go into what I take you for, as none of it is complementary. I'm just sorry that our paths ever crossed here. You haven't changed since our school days, conceited as ever."

His lip curled in a sneer. " And I'm sorry that you've not matured since then. Merlin, woman, it was just a kiss, nothing more."

How could she explain her jumbled feelings? To him it may just have been a kiss, but she felt as though her body had been woken from a deep slumber. It was the first time she had felt anything while kissing a man, which for her was momentous. It was just unfortunate the man in question was him. She was sure there would be other men to whom she would respond, but for now she had to take him down a peg or two and ensure this didn't happen again, for her own peace of mind if nothing else.

"In case you've forgotten, I'm engaged to be married," she drawled. " You're right, this was nothing more than a meaningless kiss between two people who've drunk too much wine. Regrettable, but easily forgotten."

She saw with satisfaction that her jibe had hit home. He paled, then let out a bark of harsh laughter.

"By the way you reacted to me, I'd say your dear fiancé is not much of a kisser. Does he have problems pleasing women, then?" he taunted.

Her reaction was instinctive. Raising her hand she slapped him with all the force she could muster around the face. Then she closed her eyes, pictured the interior of the hotel and Disapparated with a crack.


	4. Chapter 4

Authors Note: Sorry for the long delay, life got in the way for a while. I hope the chapter comes up to expectations and before you ask, I'm busy scribbling updates for my other stories as well. The disclaimer is in the first chapter.

Chapter Four

He felt sick. There was no other description for the churning feeling in is stomach that seemed to twist and retwist into knots. How had it all gone so wrong? The question slid through Blaise's mind like a mocking snake, taunting him until he could barely think at all. One moment all had been well between them, more than well, the next she had gone, just like that!

He rubbed a hand across the cheek Ginny had slapped mere hours ago, but what felt to him like a lifetime. He could still remember the feel of her palm, warm and slightly callused against his sensitised skin. The look of disgust she had thrown at him was enough to make him flinch even now, in the privacy of his darkened sitting room. If looks could kill, that one would be lethal.

Getting up, he paced across to the partially open French windows and let the cool breeze from the moonlit gardens wash over his flushed skin. He had to act, to try and put right the disaster of the previous night and quickly, before any more damage could be done.

The plan which had been formulating in his mind for the past few hours had to work. Again, he went over it in minute detail, trying to detect any flaws which could upset things. There were none. If all went well, she would soon be more than willing to forgive him and then he could start working his veela power over her. Before she knew what was happening, she would be his! At this thought, his body relaxed and for the first time since their argument, he breathed easily.

Going across to a teak desk set to one side of the huge fireplace, he took a piece of embossed stationary from a drawer, and picked up a quill. There was no time like the present to set things in motion. Dipping his quill into ink, he began to write:

'Dear Ginny,

As impossible as it may seem to you, I am writing to apologise for my actions of last night. I deeply regret having offended you and hope that you will forgive what was an unintentional blunder on my part.'

He paused and looked down at the parchment, deep in thought. It wouldn't do to sound too apologetic, she would see right through that. No, best to get to business – he dipped his quill into the ink again.

'You may have heard of the inter Island Quidditch match which is taking place this evening. The match is an annual event between the eastern and western sides of the Island, all proceeds of which go to a selection of charities sponsored by Ethosa. We are currently a few players short on the Western team and, remembering what a formidable Quidditch player you were at Hogwarts, I wonder if you would like to play. Of course there is no obligation on you to do so, but knowing how much you love Quidditch, it would be criminal of me not to ask. Please let one of the hotel staff know if you would like to take part and the necessary Quidditch gear will be made available for your use.

Once again, I apologise for inadvertently offending you last night,

Blaise'

He stared down at his signature wondering whether to add anything else but decided against it. Hopefully the offer to play in the match would deflect her attention from the events of the evening before and his part in them. Summoning one of the Zabini owls, he tied the parchment to its leg and watched as it soared into the dawn. All being well, she should receive the note at breakfast.

Pulling another piece of parchment towards him, he began to write a second letter, this time addressed to his holdings manager in England. The quill moved with fluid strokes as he penned his instructions to the British wizard. The letter should reach England by the afternoon and soon all Ginny's illusions about her fiancé would be smashed to dust and the skunk wouldn't be able to show his face in wizarding society. Summoning one of his mother's best trained Habetans with a flick of his wrist; he attached the letter to the bird's scaly leg.

"Tell Jones that my instructions must be carried out to the letter and as soon as possible! Don't linger on your way to Britain," he instructed the grumpy parrot.

The bird shot him a baleful look, not pleased to be sent on such a long errand and so early. "You are a rude cretin," it croaked, but Blaise ignored it, waving it out of the window before he turned away.

Now for the last but most important part of his plan. Striding across to the fireplace, he threw in a fistful of floo powder and watched as the green flames erupted into life. Sticking his head into them, he called, "Cavalack!"

He blinked as his head stopped spinning and looked around him. The room into which he was peering was dimly lit, the curtains partially drawn against the fingers of morning sunlight that were starting to cross the sky.

"Alice?" he called, hoping the old crone would be awake at this hour.

There was a sound of shuffling footsteps and an old woman came into view, wearing a dressing gown and a glower. "And what do you want so early in the morning?" she groused, coming across to the fireplace and seating herself with difficulty on a stool before it.

Alice was old, with a good few teeth missing. Her face was a mass of wrinkles out of which shone a pair of black beady eyes which could make the most confident of wizards flinch. She lived with one of her many grandsons and his family, and it was recognised by all who lived on the island that she was a force to be reckoned with. No one got on her bad side if they could help it. If you wanted something done on the island with minimum fuss, you asked Alice. All the locals of the Island, the inhabitants of Greenlawns included, were related to the old witch in some way so it wasn't difficult for her to pull strings that Blaise with all his wealth and power would have difficulty operating. His request this morning, however, was a simple one.

Instead of answering her question, he began, "I hope I didn't wake you."

"I doubt it would bother you if you did," she retorted, giving him one of her searching looks which he met head on.

"Now Alice, I would be deeply disturbed if I had interrupted your beauty sleep!"

Alice let out a loud bark of laughter in contrast to her wizened frame. "You always were a charmer, Blaise Zabini! So what brings you here so early on this morning?"

"I have a request which I hope you can help with," he said, picking his words with care.

"Oh? It's not often you ask for my help, what has got you into such a tizz then?" She made herself comfortable on her stool and leaned forward with interest.

"Have the Western team for this evening's match got their seven players?" He asked.

The old woman's eyes narrowed in speculation. "Hmm now, well let's think. Carlton, my great grandson, was saying the other day that they had but he wasn't satisfied with the quality of some of them. There's no point in having teams which aren't equally matched, it makes the game very boring!"

"Who's playing seeker for them?" he asked.

"The Johnson boy, why?"

Blaise's eyes narrowed in thought, and he ignored her question. "And the chasers?"

"Karen Adwyn, Tom Shelton, and Alex Higgs, the usual lot."

"Well, Tom Johnson can't play," he stated emphatically.

Alice's sparse brows rose in enquiry and not a little relish. "And why is that may I ask?"

"I need someone else to play in his stead. Someone who is a lot better, I might add."

"I see, and who may this be?" she asked, knobbly hands clasped round her knees as she peered at him.

"One of the Grand's guests - a young woman who arrived two days ago from Britain."

Suddenly he had Alice's full attention. She leaned forward eagerly, her beady eyes gleaming. "Ah yes, the little redhead, she's causing quite a stir. You wouldn't happen to know anything of her? "

Trust Alice to have heard all about Ginny by now. The old bat probably knew every detail about her wardrobe, what she ate at each meal and so on.

"That depends, arrange that she plays seeker and I'll satisfy your curiosity," he drawled.

Alice shifted on her stool, and took a mug of hot chocolate from a house elf standing out of Blaise's line of vision. She took a sip, lips pursed. "Hmm, an interesting bargain. What's in it for you if she plays seeker?" she responded swiftly.

"Ah, that would be telling," he countered sweetly, enjoying this battle of wits. "Do you want to know about her or not? I went to school with the girl you know!"

He waited and as he had known, she snatched the bait. "Really? Now there is something." She thought for a moment, then nodded her grizzled grey head. "OK, I'll do it. The Johnson lad will drop out and she can play seeker, though the work I'll have to do to arrange it had better be worth your information."

Blaise smiled. All she had to do, as they both well knew, was tell the hotel manager, her great grandson, to tell the boy in question he was no longer playing. "Thanks, now what do you want to know about her?"

"Everything! She's a fascinating young woman, very magical and yet unattached. I don't understand it," Alice grumbled. "Why, Candida was saying last night that she had seen the girl go underwater for hours yesterday morning without having to resurface. Most people I know can't do that!"

"She's trained to do it," he grinned. "It's what she does to earn a living."

She dismissed this with a wave, "Yes I know that, but still. Then there's that incident of the other night…"

"You mean the incident of the ring?" he asked. "No one knows what happened there, least of all me." Alice had a knack of finding things out as soon as they had happened. No doubt she already knew that Ginny had dined at Greenlawns the night before.

Sure enough, her next words confirmed this. "I hear you and she have already been catching up, so tell me about her."

"Her name is Ginevra Molly Weasley and as you probably know, she comes from an old British pureblood family," he started.

"The Weasleys have been around for generations," Alice mused. "Good blood stock. So go on."

Blaise couldn't help smirking at this casual reference to a family who prided themselves on anything but their blood status. "I knew Ginny at Hogwarts; her brother was in my year. They're a feisty lot, good friends with the famous Potter!"

Her eyes widened. "Really? Do they still keep in touch with him?"

Blaise knew that the old woman was an addicted fan of Harry Potter; she followed his movements obsessively in all the newspapers and magazines she could lay her bony hands on. To have someone on the island who had known him very well was almost as good as meeting him in the flesh.

"I don't know, probably."

"Oh Blaise, you're so infuriating! You went to school with him and have told me next to nothing about him," she scowled. This was a frequent complaint of the old bats and he ignored it as usual.

"Getting back to the subject in hand," he smirked enjoying her annoyance, "I don't know much more about Ginny than that."

"What I want to know," Alice said abandoning the topic of Potter for the time being, "is why she's still single. With looks and a background like that, she should have been snatched up the moment she left school."

He laughed, "There could be any number of reasons. She may not have found the right person yet."

"And that's where you come in is it?" the old woman guessed shrewdly. "You want the girl yourself. Interesting."

"Why?"

"Well, she doesn't strike me as your type."

He raised an enquiring brow. "Oh I don't know."

"Blaise, you love them and leave them, always have done. If you want a quickie with this girl, it won't be so easy, her family will see to that."

Deciding the conversation had strayed off course for long enough, he shrugged noncommittally. "So you'll arrange it?" he asked again.

She nodded. "Yes, but on your head be it if they turn nasty. Anyway, this girl intrigues me, I will have one of the boys take me to the match I think so I can see her for myself. Maybe have a nice cosy chat afterwards."

Blaise nodded and took his leave. A moment later, he pulled his head out of the green flames in his fireplace and stood up. The stage was set for the evening's game, now all he had to do was trust in the weather to play its part.

XoXoXoXo

Excitement washed through Ginny as she made her way downstairs into the hotel foyer, which was packed with people. A small group like herself were dressed in black, tight-fitting Quidditch outfits while everyone else sported large banners and flags.

"Ginny, there you are," Helen Langley, a well built young woman in her late thirties called, waving across to her. "Over here, I want one last meeting before we go to the Quidditch stadium."

With difficulty, Ginny pushed through the crowd to Helen's side. Waiting with her were the other five members of the team, all looking excited.

"Ready?" Karen Adwyn, one of the chasers asked, grinning. "This is one of the best matches of the lot."

"As ready as I'll ever be," Ginny replied, feeling nervous.

"You'll be fine," Helen, who was a beater, assured her. "You fly like a dream, better than any of us! Now everyone, there's a strong cross current this evening, nothing to worry about but watch out for it."

"Are you ready to go to the stadium?" Carlton, looking as excited as anyone had come up to them. "Best to check out the conditions before hand."

Everyone nodded and they moved across to the apparition point to one side of the large front doors.

"Ginny, you'd best hold on to me," Tom Shelton another chaser, said, taking her arm. "You don't want to end up at the wrong place now do you?"

She shook her head and a moment later they had disapparated to appear beside the large Quidditch pitch. The stands on the other side were filling with excited spectators, most sporting Omnioculars as they took their places.

A tall, slim witch with olive skin and bright, dark eyes was standing in the centre of the pitch, clutching a broomstick and wearing a haughty, self-satisfied smirk as she surveyed the Western team.

"Ah, I see Malina's here already," Tom said dryly, eyeing the woman with dislike.

Helen gave a snort of derision. "Well, we all know why she's here!" The rest of the team also sniggered as they eyed the haughty witch with definite hostility.

"Why's that?" Ginny asked perplexed.

"To see his lordship of course! It's well known they shag on occasion so by being nice to him during these matches, she thinks he'll take her to bed," the other woman said with contempt.

"And does he?" Ginny asked, feeling her stomach clench for no apparent reason.

"Only when there's no one better around," Philip, the other beater, a sandy haired man in his fifties smirked. "She's the only one who can't see that he uses her. Ah well, discussing those two won't win us the match!"

"No, she'll make sure it won't," Helen snapped. "Bitch, she always favours their team."

The other team, dressed in blue, were marching onto the pitch, Blaise Zabini carrying a beaters bat, among them. Ginny tried hard not to notice how his Quidditch clothes which fit him like a second skin, outlined his athletic frame leaving nothing to the imagination.

"Time to mount, good luck everyone," Helen called as Melina gave Blaise a dazzling smile and blew her whistle.

XoXoXoXo

Blaise mounted with the other players, his mind not on the game but the redhead circling well above, her eyes darting about for the snitch. She flew with a fluidity that made the others look like bumbling amateurs and he knew it wouldn't be long until the game was over. Ginny had probably been reared on competitive Quidditch, unlike most of the others who saw it as an enjoyable pastime and nothing more. He had to keep close to her until the moment was right.

In the first five minutes, Melina had awarded his team a free penalty for nothing at all, and he laughed inwardly at her pathetic attempts to ingratiate herself with him. Never again would he even look at another woman, the only one he would ever want was circling above him, indifference stamped into every line of her compact form.

The game continued and although Ginny seemed to see the snitch twice, it had flitted out of sight by the time she had turned her broom to go after it. Blaise noticed that she wasn't finding flying as easy in Ethosa as Britain, the cross currents in the warmer climate of Ethosa knocking her off course if she didn't watch out for them.

Then she went into a dive. The snitch was hovering by one of the goalposts at his team's end. She sped up, intent on the speck of gold fluttering above the goalposts. He watched, hardly daring to breathe, while she put on a burst of speed and, taking one hand from her broom, caught the struggling snitch in her palm.

He had to admire the catch; the woman did indeed know a thing or two about Quidditch, much to his satisfaction. Swiftly he closed the gap between them, hoping his chance would come soon, especially as she was distracted and not paying as much attention as she should to her broom. His nerves tightened, and he braced himself.

It was as the whistle blew and the cheers erupted that it happened. Ginny turned, intending to head down to the ground, one hand still clutching the snitch while the other controlled the broom. A current of warm Ethosian air sliced beneath her broom knocking it off course. The broom jerked sideways and she lost her balance and was almost toppled from the broom. He saw the look of panic on her face as desperately, she tried to grasp the broom with her knees and hands attempting to right herself, but she had been thrown too far to the left for this to be possible. Hovering beside her, he reached out and pulled her from her wildly spinning broom on to his own.

Gasping, she stared up at him, eyes wide with fright.

"You're ok, I've got you!" he murmured, settling her shaking form in front of him and speeding towards the ground, one arm wrapped securely around her. His plan had worked with no intervention from him.

"I…I…" she gasped as they landed and he helped her from the broom.

"What's wrong with her?" Melina's loud voice was an unwelcome intrusion into the moment and he looked up, eyes cold as he threw aside his beater's bat.

"She slipped, that's what," he answered tersely, annoyed.

"Useless! If you can't fly, why play in the match?" Melina sneered, eyes narrowed as she glared at Ginny, who was trembling with shock in Blaise's arms.

His annoyance at the other woman was growing; he would deal with her later. Ginny's team members were landing around her, wearing expressions of concern as they dismounted and hurried across to them.

"Ginny, are you ok?" an anxious Helen asked.

"Yes…I…" Ginny stammered, still dazed.

"She needs a drink and peace," Blaise said as spectators began to make their way onto the pitch. "Ginny come on, we'll go back to the Grand." If he didn't get her away from here and soon, they would monopolise her and he wanted her to himself.

"What happened?" an anxious Carlton asked, reaching them and peering down at Ginny's white face.

"I slipped sideways on my broom," Ginny explained shakily. "It happened so fast and…"

"Not to worry, no damage was done. A drink and a rest and you'll soon be back to normal," Carlton assured. "Apparating is out of the question in your condition so it'll have to be a portkey."

"What a catch though," one of her team members crowed in delight. "It must be a record!"

Ginny made to pull away from Blaise but he held her firmly. "Careful, you're not steady on your feet, lean on me," he instructed, tightening his arm round her. Then turning to Carlton he said, "Could you construct a portkey to take us back to the hotel? The sooner Ginny gets some rest, the better."

The other man nodded and pulled a comb from his pocket. In seconds, the portkey was ready and he handed it to Blaise. Ginny took hold of it, gulping as she did so. Immediately the familiar tug at his naval jerked them away from the ground and he took the opportunity to hug Ginny closer to him.

They soon arrived and the moment his feet hit the floor of the hotel, he hoisted Ginny into his arms and moved towards the stairs, relishing the feel of her curvaceous body against his. He breathed in the scent of her silky hair, under his cheek and hoped it wouldn't be long before he could do this on a regular basis without needing an excuse.

"Put me down," she demanded, struggling against his firm grip.

"Hush, we're nearly there," he soothed, holding her more securely, enjoying the closeness of their bodies.

"No, I want to be put down." She pushed against his chest for emphasis.

People were arriving back in the reception area and he quickened his steps anxious to reach the sanctuary of her suite before anyone intruded.

"Please, I'm ok now and am perfectly capable of walking," she continued, throwing an anxious look over his shoulder at the people below.

"I'm sure you are," he drawled, "but why risk it? Best to be safe." He was walking down the corridor now. "Which is your suite?"

Scowling, she indicated it. He stopped before it and with practiced ease cast the spell to unlock the door using wandless magic. The lock clicked and the door swung open.

"How did you do that?" she asked with a frown as he carried her into the cool sitting room.

"Do what?" he responded, reluctantly laying her on the sofa before going over to the bar and pouring a brandy.

She kicked off her Quidditch shoes and lay back. Sitting beside her, he put the glass to her lips. "Drink this; it'll make you feel better."

With a none too steady hand, she made to take the glass but he shook his head. "No, I'll hold it, you just drink."

She would have protested but he tipped the glass and the fiery spirit slid into her mouth and down her throat making her cough.

"I don't like brandy," she complained, wiping her eyes.

The door was pushed open and the hotel manager entered the room. "Excellent, just the thing to steady your nerves, Ginny," he said, looking with approval at the glass in Blaise's hand.

Blaise nodded hiding his irritation at the man. "One more sip," he told Ginny, and obediently, she swallowed another mouthful of the drink.

"No more," she gasped turning away and he put the glass down on the table beside them.

"How are you feeling, Ginny?" Carlton asked solicitously.

Blaise's lips tightened for a second before his face took on a neutral expression. He didn't like the familiar way the other man was addressing her, it was not professional in the least!

"I'm ok thanks. A bit shaken but I'll live."

"Shall I call a healer to take a look at you?" Carlton asked maddeningly.

She shook her head. "There's no need for that, I'm not hurt, just shaken."

"That's more than understandable. Carlton, it's best if she sees no one this evening, to allow her time to rest of course," Blaise said, his gaze on the door. If the git didn't get out soon, Blaise would hex him.

He draped an arm over Ginny's prone form as he spoke. "I'll stay with her for a while, in case she needs anything."

"Right," Carlton replied uncertainly, looking between them.

"Excellent, be sure to tell everyone that Ginny doesn't wish to be disturbed," Blaise said dismissively shooting the other man a speaking look.

"I will," Carlton nodded and finally left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Glaring, Ginny turned to a smiling Blaise. "Look, I don't need you or anyone else to stay with me thanks, so you can just go." The brandy had definitely restored her fighting spirit.

"That's a nice way to thank the man who has just saved your life, I must say," he responded silkily leaning back at his ease, her warm body pressed against his side.

He saw that she was disconcerted by his words. "As to that, I'm grateful to you of course," she said grudgingly, "But there's no need for you to stay any longer, you've done more than enough already."

He laughed softly, eyes glittering as they moved over her prone form in its figure-hugging Quidditch clothes which emphasized every curve. "Have I? I don't call sitting with you for a few hours too much to ask, do you?"

"But there's no need for it," she protested again, shielding her breasts with her arms as she noticed his gaze. "I'm fine now, honestly." Then looking as though the words were costing her dearly, she added, "I don't know how to thank you for saving me earlier."

His smile grew broader and he cupped her cheek with his hand. "Oh there are plenty of ways." Her skin was soft and smooth beneath his palm and he resisted the urge to bend his head and kiss it.

"Well, I can't think of any," she replied, not looking at him. Her shoulders were hunched in an attitude of rejection and he knew that she was contemplating without pleasure the consequences of his actions for her – most likely wondering if she owed him a wizarding life debt.

He breathed in deeply, allowing her intoxicating scent to wash over him, as nonchalantly he stretched. "That game did tire me, I must be out of practice," he drawled.

"Hardly, it only lasted ten minutes, if that," she scoffed and made to sit up.

Blaise pulled her down beside him. "Relax; your body needs the rest. Ten minutes it may have been, but you still received a nasty shock. It's the cross-currents in this place, I told you."

"I'm aware of that thanks. It was just that one moment when I was off my guard that it hit me. How do people here put up with them?" she retorted, annoyed.

"Easily. They'd have problems flying in England; it's a case of getting used to it." Her proximity was having an effect on his body and mind. The instinct to mark and take her was becoming hard to ignore and he felt his arousal, always in evidence when she was around, start to become painful. He was very glad of the disillusionment charm he had cast on that part of his anatomy earlier.

It would be so easy to make her his now, she was vulnerable and wouldn't put up too much of a fight, but she would probably not forgive him for the next fifty years and nothing was worth that! He shuddered at the thought, earning him an odd look from Ginny.

"Are you ok?" she asked brows raised.

"Fine thanks." He got up and went across to the window, which looked out onto the darkening beach. If he didn't put some distance between them, he would lose the small amount of control he had and she wasn't ready for that yet. "This is a far cry from Britain's dreary weather," he commented turning back to her.

She nodded sitting up. "You're telling me!" She paused. "I'll almost feel sorry to go back to Britain, things are so different there."

"Almost?" he questioned with interest.

"Well, yes. The weather and people here are so nice. Saying that, though, all my family are there."

"Of course!"

As though on cue, green flames erupted in the fireplace and the head of one of the receptionists appeared there. "Miss Weasley?" he called looking round.

Ginny leapt off the couch and knelt down before the hearth.

"Sorry to disturb you but you have a floo call from England. Shall I put it through?" the man asked politely.

"Err, yes, I suppose." Ginny shot a look over her shoulder at Blaise nodding at the door. It was more than obvious she wanted him to go but he pretended not to see the gesture. Who would be calling her so late?

He had wondered a lot about her family. Being magical they would accept, although grudgingly, that Ginny was his, they would nevertheless be an unwanted hindrance unless he took measures to stop this. If it was one of them calling this would be the perfect time to introduce himself. If not, he felt he had the right to know who it was, just in case!

He smiled back blandly as the receptionist's head was replaced with a balding, red-haired man wearing glasses who could only be Ginny's father.

"Ginny, there you are," the man beamed. "We've only just got back from Bill's house so I thought I'd call. How are you?"

"I'm fine thanks," she replied shooting Blaise another pointed look which he again ignored. "How are you and Mum?"

"We're fine, and before I forget, the boys all send their love."

"That's nice of them," Ginny replied dryly.

"Now, now Ginny, less of that. Your mother would have liked to talk but she was exhausted and went to bed. She passes on her love."

"Thanks."

"So tell me, what have you been doing on Ethosa? It's a lovely island and the weather must be ideal at this time of year." The older man smiled, a note of wistfulness lacing his voice.

"Oh it is," she agreed enthusiastically. "I'll almost be sorry to come home again."

"Ah well, we won't. Its odd here without you! We worry."

"Dad, please! I'm not a child any longer."

Behind her, Blaise shifted his position; it was time to make himself known. He moved to kneel behind Ginny, just out of her father's line of vision.

"Careful," he murmured, hands resting lightly on her shoulders. "You don't want to overdo things just yet."

She turned and glared at him. "I thought I told you to go," she hissed angrily, colour staining her cheeks.

"Ginny, who are you talking to?" Mr Weasley demanded, craning his neck in an attempt to peer round her.

"It's no one Dad," Ginny said hastily, turning back to him and trying to block Blaise from view.

Blaise however had no intention of being casually dismissed, and moved to her side, wearing a bland expression. The other mans eyes widened as they took him in, and then flickered to his daughter, while his brain was no doubt working overtime to put 2 and 2 together and make 5, much to Blaise's satisfaction.

"He's just going," Ginny gritted out through tight lips, shooting Blaise a cold look which he affected not to notice.

"Please excuse my interrupting your conversation," Blaise addressed the older man, "But as I was here when the call came in, it seemed rude to just disappear without saying hello first."

Mr Weasley eyed him with interest. "I suppose so; you're a colleague of Ginny's?"

"Well, no. We knew each other at Hogwarts and bumped into each other here. I brought Ginny up to her suite after a tumble off her broom while playing Quidditch," Blaise said casually.

"What's that?" the older man spluttered, while Ginny cringed. If looks could kill, Blaise would be a dead man now. "Ginny, fall?"

"It was nothing Dad, just this lot worrying-".

"You fell, how?" her father interrupted concerned.

"No harm was done, Mr Weasley, we made sure of that. It was just the cross-currents here that knocked her broom off course, that's all," Blaise reassured smoothly.

Relief swept the other man's face as he eyed his daughter closely. "I've heard the cross currents in the Caribbean take some getting used to. What possessed you to get on a broom without practice first? You could have been seriously hurt!" he chided his daughter.

"They were a seeker short on one of the teams so I filled in! Anyway, nothing happened so why the fuss?" Irritation laced Ginny's voice and from the look on her father's face, Blaise guessed that this wasn't the first time the two were arguing.

"Ginny was up here resting when you called," Blaise consoled.

"You'll be the death of me," Mr Weasley sighed smiling affectionately at his daughter. It didn't take a genius to work out that she was his favourite. "What will your mother say when she finds out?"

"Why should she find out?" Ginny countered swiftly. "If he," she shot Blaise a narrow eyed look, "hadn't been here, you wouldn't have found out either."

Blaise's eyes widened. The girl was definitely devious.

Mr Weasley was silent for a moment then nodded. "All right, I won't say anything, but any more such escapades and I will tell her! Please be careful Ginny. Ethosa, although hot and so on, is not Britain and you're not used to the climate there." He then turned to Blaise. "I'm sorry young man, but I didn't catch your name."

"It's Blaise Zabini," Blaise replied. "I take it you're Ginny's father?"

"Yes, Arthur Weasley. It's nice to meet you."

Ginny sighed loudly, clearly annoyed at the turn of events.

"Likewise, Ginny talks a lot of you all," Blaise smiled back, pleased.

"Have you two known each other long then? I don't recall Ginny mentioning you at Hogwarts," Mr Weasley said thoughtfully.

"Well, we knew of each other, being in different years," Blaise replied easily. "Imagine my surprise when we met here!"

"Yes. Still It's nice for you to know one person on the island at least, Ginny," the older man smiled in relief. "By the way, do you get the Prophet much on Ethosa?"

"No, thank Merlin!" Ginny answered grimacing. "Who wants to read that rag anyway?"

Blaise's interest however was caught and he made a mental note to check that evenings Prophet as soon as he could. Mr Weasley had asked that question for a reason, it was probably the main reason for his calling so late.

"Yes, well, I just wondered."

"Why? Is there something in there I should know about?" Ginny asked suspiciously.

"No, no, not at all, I just thought –"

"Dad, what's happened?" she asked cutting across him. "You'd never ask something like that unless you had a damned good reason for it."

"I told you, it was just curiosity."

She snorted in disbelief while Blaise held his breath.

"Out with it, what's happened?" she persisted glaring into her father's face. He didn't meet the look but sighed deeply.

"Well, it's probably nothing but…"

"But?"

"As I say, it's probably just the Prophet making things up again, but there's a picture of Brian on the front page."

There was a deafening silence as Ginny digested his words. Blaise could feel the tension radiating off her and hardly dared breathe. He was sure that, like him, she was putting two and two together and making four.

Finally she asked in such a quiet voice that he almost missed the words, "Who was she?"

Mr Weasley shook his head looking both unhappy and angry. "Elizabeth Greengrass. At least that's what the Prophet said."

From what Blaise could remember, Elizabeth Greengrass had a reputation of stealing other women's boyfriends. No doubt she had ensnared Brian Forcett just for the hell of it, probably with a little help from his holdings manager.

"And what were they doing?" Ginny asked her expression hardening. She too seemed to know of Elizabeth's reputation.

"Well," Mr Weasley hedged, clearly uncomfortable, "the photo may not be accurate-"

"Get to the point Dad, what were they doing?"

"They were in a passionate embrace, just outside Ollivanders," he muttered.

Ginny absorbed this news with apparent composure. Blaise couldn't tell what she was thinking as she gazed unseeing at the wall opposite her.

"Ginny?" her father said tentatively, looking anxious.

She seemed to come out of herself and focused on her father's face. "It's ok Dad, don't worry about it."

"But he was with someone else," the older man protested clearly hurt by what he had seen. "We had hoped the snapping of the ring was temporary and…" he tailed off shaking his head.

She nodded, and shot Blaise a sideways look before saying, "That's up to him. As far as I'm concerned, he can do what he likes. We're no longer together, not after this."

Blaise knew that she must be very angry to admit something like this in front of him, especially after her declarations of the night before.

"I'm sorry," her father sighed. "Brian seemed to be such a nice young man; we had such high hopes for you both."

"That's life, Dad," Ginny grimaced. "Unexpected."

"Well, you just enjoy yourself on Ethosa, You've every right to."

She grinned suddenly taking Blaise by surprise. "Oh I will, don't worry about that. Dad, I'd better go, it's getting very late and I have to be up early tomorrow."

"Of course, take care of yourself. I'll bid you both good night, and Ginny, don't do anything dangerous will you!"

"Don't worry Mr Weasley, I'll keep an eye on her," Blaise assured the other man.

"I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself thanks," Ginny snapped glaring at both men. Hurriedly her father said his goodbyes and a moment later the grate was empty.

Scowling Ginny got up to face Blaise. "You know, it's polite to leave the room when people get floo calls," she snapped. Whatever her feelings about the revelations of a few moments ago, she wasn't showing them.

"Is it? I'd say it was just as rude not to make your presence known if you were in the room, wouldn't you?" he countered calmly, enjoying her anger. She really was a little spitfire; he hoped she was this energetic in bed.

"You really are the limit, you know that? Merlin knows what Mum and Dad will be making of the fact that you were with me just now," she flared.

"What's so wrong with that? We both know that my reasons for being here are entirely innocent, surely that's all that matters."

"No, it isn't. After everything that's happened, I don't need them speculating about you as well."

"You're over reacting," he placated, "they won't think anything of it and anyway, so what if they do?"

"They'll presume that you… we..." She tailed off.

"Been seeing each other? So what?"

"I don't want them to think that because it isn't true!" she spat.

Seeing she was going to argue further, he forestalled her by raising a hand. "I want to talk to you, and nothing will be achieved by this pointless conversation."

Not waiting for an invite, he crossed to the bar and poured himself a dry sherry, while raising a brow in enquiry.

She shook her head, throwing herself in a winged chair while he took the seat on the sofa opposite her.

He would have liked to discuss her father's revelation but decided against it for the time being, and reverted to his original plan. "I trust you got my letter this morning?" he asked in a quiet voice. It was time to undo the damage of the day before.

She blinked, taken aback. "What? Oh yes, I did."

"And?"

"And what?" she gave him a puzzled look as she spoke and he bit back a sigh of irritation.

"Do you accept my apology?" As he had suspected, this was proving harder than he had envisaged.

Ginny was silent for a long moment, then shrugged. "It doesn't matter one way or the other, does it?"

"Of course it does. I inadvertently offended you and that matters a great deal."

"Why?" she persisted. "From what I remember, other people's feelings never played a part in your life. I can't understand the sudden change."

"Ginny that was a long time ago when we were young and innocent. Like most other teenagers, I was selfish, I admit it, but things have moved on since then."

"It's difficult to look past first impressions," she replied guardedly. "Thanks for the apology though, it was unexpected." She stood and yawned. "If you don't mind, I'm shattered and want an early night."

Blaise however was not content. "Ah, but do you accept my apology?" he pressed determined to get an answer from her.

Wearily, she nodded and a weight seemed to slide off him.

"Thanks, it means a lot. Maybe I can take you on a tour of the island, as compensation for my behaviour," he suggested hopefully.

"No thanks, that's ok," she smiled politely.

He took a deep breath, fighting back disappointment, and asked, "Why are you so determined to avoid me?"

She gave him a searching glance before replying. "Look, there's no point in denying that we're very different people who want different things from life. I just don't think we have anything in common."

"You mean, you've decided we don't have anything in common. Your problem is that you read too much into things; this isn't Britain you know! Here people like to help others without ulterior motives. In offering to show you round the island, I have no intention of murdering you on a deserted beach or whatever other ideas you may have."

She blushed and looked away. "Yes, but you have a reputation, I mean….well…."

"Ah, now we're getting to the crux of the matter," he smiled thinly. "Don't tell me you don't want to be seen with me due to my so called reputation with women?"

"What's wrong with that?" she flashed back heatedly.

"Only that at school you could hex better than most of the seventh years. I doubt you've changed. Anyway, your family would hang, draw and quarter me if I so much laid a finger on you without your say so, the floo call with your father was enough to tell me that." He grinned. "Only a fool would risk such treatment for a quick roll in the hay. No thanks, I value myself far too much for that!" To emphasise this, he strode over to the mirror on one wall and gazed at himself.

"I see you're as much of a poser as always," Ginny commented dryly watching him.

Blaise took his time rearranging the lapels of his top, hoping that her suspicions had been allayed. Finally he turned back to her. "So what do you say? We could go clubbing together, there are some wonderful places both here an on Barbados, which isn't too far."

He saw her eyes light up with interest although she tried hard not to show it. "Maybe."

"Excellent, it'll be nice to go out with a woman who isn't after my gorgeous person."

She gave a derisive snort. "Merlin, you really haven't changed have you? Just because some women seem to find you attractive, it doesn't mean that everyone does!"

"I'm wounded." He gave a theatrical sigh. "Most women would be honoured to go out with me."

She gave him a calculating look from beneath raised brows. "You have your uses I'll admit, but as for being honoured to be with you, I disagree."

Deciding not to push his luck any further that evening, he moved towards the door. "I'll let you know when I next go clubbing. It's up to you whether you want to accompany me. Sleep well." Not waiting for a response, he sauntered out, shutting the door behind him.

XoXoXoXo

"Blaise, look at this!" Adriana said, entering his sunlit study and handing him the evening Prophet from the day before.

"I've already seen it," he drawled glancing at the newspaper before turning his attention back to the papers strewn across his desk.

"And?" she asked with impatience, perching on the window seat. "What do you think of it?"

He shrugged. "They look very busy."

"Oh Blaise, do not be so flippant, I wonder if Ginevra has seen it?"

He picked up the paper and studied the entwined couple on the front page with dispassion. "Definitely. Her father flooed her last night to tell her but as I was there, they didn't discuss it much."

"I hope she is not upset by it."

"When have you cared about such things Mother?" Blaise couldn't help asking at this unusual display of concern for someone she barely knew.

"She will be your wife, naturally I care," Adriana responded dryly. "It will make things difficult for you if she carried a torch for him." She nodded at the paper, the front page of which showed Brian Forcett busily ravaging a tall blonde.

"I don't think she did. She didn't look to upset when her father told her, but then she doesn't give away much," he mused, leaning back in his swivel chair.

"She was very determined to get the engagement back on track the other night," Adriana put in, but Blaise shook his head.

"I suspect that was more for our benefit than because there was any truth in it."

"You cannot be sure of that," she protested. "The girl was very determined."

"Mother, I know how Ginny and her family operate, pride and not showing weakness means a lot to them. Trust me, she just didn't want us to know about the broken engagement. The ring would never have broken with such ease had she and Forcett been in love. All I did was touch it the once during the meal and that was it."

Adriana was silent for a moment, then nodded. "I suppose, but you never know."

"Mother I think I do. Even if she did want to renew things with him, which from what I saw last night is extremely unlikely, her family would never let her. They're very protective of her."

"You realise they could prove to be a real stumbling block?"

He laughed. "Mother, they're magical. They'll understand as well as the next person what it means to have Veela blood and about Ginny being my mate. They won't like it, but they won't stop it. After this," he nodded at the paper, "they may prove to be an asset."

"Possibly."

"What do you think of Ginny?" he asked with interest.

She paused. Then choosing her words with care said, "She is not what I expected."

"And what was that?"

"I do not know precisely, but not her. I had expected a spoilt, pampered girl whose main aim was to find a rich husband, most pureblood girls are like that, you cannot deny it. But Ginevra, she is different. Spoiled most certainly, but she has a mind of her own which is unusual in one of her breeding."

"I'd never stand for a stupid woman, you know that," Blaise protested, looking revolted. "Such females are two a knut."

"Well, they have their uses," she retorted stung. "For one thing, they make the chase easier."

"Hmm, from what I remember, you didn't make father's life very easy when he was pursuing you."

She smiled slightly. "I'm not an empty-headed female! Who can resist making the best looking man in the country chase after one? It is very good for the ego."

"Ginny can, I'm sure," came his dry response.

"No, you know she cannot, her need of you will not let her. The sooner she realises that, the better for all of us."

"She's as stubborn as they come and will take a lot of convincing." His doubts, usually pushed to the back of his mind, were coming to the fore.

"Not if you give and seal the first mark she cannot," his mother responded briskly.

He shrugged. "Let's hope it won't come to that, I'd much prefer to give her the mark without having to use force. For one thing, it will be a lot less painful for her."

A dreamy smile settled on Adriana's countenance. "Yes, I well remember it. There is a little pain but the pleasure is incredible."

"Hmm, I suspect time has dimmed your memory of the pain."

"Oh, it has not. The pain is bad but it lasts no more than a few seconds, but the pleasure…"

Trying not to think of his parents engaging in sexual activities, Blaise got up. "Yes well, we'll see."

"Oh, I almost forgot to ask, what happened to Ginevra in the match yesterday? She is such a good flyer, I cannot understand how she fell from her broom."

"The cross-currents of air of course. She's not used to them and was so busy enjoying capturing the snitch that a current caught her unawares."

"So it had nothing to do with you then?" She shot him a disbelieving look.

"No! I merely thought it may happen and was on hand when it did."

"Hmm, convenient. You're as scheming as your father was."

"Each for himself, as they say. If I don't do everything I can to ensure she's mine, no one else will."

"I will," she protested, eyes flashing.

"Apart from you, then."

"So what now?" she enquired in a bored voice which belied her interest.

"She owes me a wizarding debt for saving her," he smirked. "I can call on that any time I like if she doesn't cooperate."

"I hope for her sake that she does then. You are a formidable opponent when you want something," Adriana said as she left the room.

Blaise sat back, hands linked behind his head as he contemplated the events of the day before. Things were falling into place nicely, and soon Ginny would be his. He wondered what she was doing, but more importantly how she was feeling, especially after lasts night's article. Once he had given her the first mark, he would be able to tell, but for now, had to rely on guesswork and astute observation.

Brian Forcett, though, was permanently out of the picture and for that, Blaise was deeply thankful. It meant that he had a bit more time, although the longer he delayed claiming her, the more unstable he would become. Also, she was an extremely attractive young woman and it wouldn't be long until someone else tried to take her, something which he could not risk. He now had to work on the second part of his plan, to give her the first mark, thereby putting into place the first strand of the magical link between them. After that, things would go a lot more smoothly, for she would start wanting him in return. If he played his cards right, he would be able to speed up the process until she surrendered and he could make her his.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N Thanks go to my patient beta for making this readable. I have read lots of veela ficts so am not sure from which I have taken the idea of marking a mate. If you know which stories use the marking described here, please let me know and I will give all due credit. I apologise now if I have inadvertently used someone else's idea without asking first.

Disclaimer: No recognisable characters are mine, but the plot and all made-up characters are.

Chapter Five

"It sounds absolutely wonderful," Hermione Weasley sighed dreamily, "I really envy you Ginny."

Ginny grinned, shifting position on the floor in front of the fireplace in her hotel sitting room. "Oh it is, I really wish you could come out here, you'd love it!"

"We considered it for our Honeymoon but Italy won out. Now I'm starting to wonder if we made the right choice," Hermione's head smiled ruefully from amongst the green flames. "Ah well, maybe next year. Anyway, enough of that, what are the men out there like? Your dad was saying something about Zabini! Don't tell me he's out there too?"

Ginny grimaced. "Afraid so. It's not too bad though if you know how to avoid him. These last two days, I haven't seen too much of him thank Merlin."

"What do you mean by that? Has he been bothering you?"

"You know what he's like, as the latest bit of skirt on the island, he had to check me out! He hasn't changed. I'm glad to say though that I seem to be sadly lacking and he's losing interest."

Hermione's eyes narrowed in thought. "Hmm well, he always fancied you at school, probably thought he'd have another go, just for old times sake."

Both women laughed.

"I don't suppose he's changed much, I mean physically?" Hermione asked, interested in spite of herself.

"Hardly at all, well maybe a bit taller and broader. He's as arrogant and up his own arse as ever. It doesn't help that he's the richest person on the Island and women seem to faun over him," Ginny said with disgust.

"He's always been good looking," Hermione agreed with a reminiscent smile. "Have you had many dealings with him?"

"No more than I could help. He's offered to show me round the island but I told him where to shove that idea. I may go clubbing with him though, he seems to know all the hot night spots. I'll go with him and when we get there, ditch him."

"He won't like that," Hermione grinned.

"Oh he won't mind I'm sure. There'll be plenty of women more than willing to stroke his ego in the hopes of a shag and then marriage. The depths to which some women plunge to ensnare a rich man is incredible." Ginny gave a shudder of revulsion.

"That's harsh," Hermione winced. "I wouldn't like to be on your bad side, you can flay with words alone."

"You would to if you saw them. Last week, there was this woman who was refereeing one of the Quidditch matches, who was practically begging for Zabini to shag her then and there. It was sick. I mean, what is he? Yes, he's good looking in a haughty up his own arse kind of way, and he has pots of money, but when it comes down to it, he has the personality of your average slug."

"I wouldn't know, he never deigned to speak to me at school. You sound pretty resentful of him though."

"I'm fed up of the knowing looks thrown my way whenever our paths happen to cross. He lost no time in telling anyone who'd listen, which is the whole island that we went to school together, git! Merlin knows what else he's hinted at to bolster his ego," Ginny complained, glad to be able to vent her feelings on the subject.

"Oh dear, you really don't like him, do you? Poor him, I reckon he's bitten off more than he can chew where you're concerned. Him aside, is there anyone else of interest out there?"

Ginny considered. "No, I don't think so. There're plenty of good looking blokes, but no one sensational."

"Other than Zabini of course," Hermione suggested mildly.

"Zabini? I don't think so."

"Oh come on, don't tell me you don't fancy him at all, even you have to admit he's easy on the eyes," Hermione protested, her expression slightly unfocused.

Ginny's eyes widened in surprise. "Merlin's ears, you fancy him!"

"Of course not, I'm only saying…" Hermione denied swiftly.

"I never knew, you fancy him!" Ginny laughed as Hermione scowled, her cheeks pink.

"All the girls at school fancied him," she retorted defensively. "You're just odd."

"No, I'm the only one who has a head on my shoulders. Honestly Hermione, so what if he's considered good looking! His personality's enough to put anyone off."

Hermione shook her head in incredulity. "It's not his personality that draws people. It's well…I don't know, just some kind of magnetism or whatever…"

Ginny's howl of laughter made Hermione scowl again. "What like a veela you mean?" she sniggered.

"If you're going to be childish, I won't bother," Hermione huffed in annoyance.

"OK, OK, I'll try to control myself, but honestly!"

"Hmph," came the aggrieved response. "I wouldn't be surprised if there was some veela blood in him, it'd account for those looks."

"And the personality?" Ginny suggested innocently. "Do you reckon that he has a strain of err, slug in his make-up?"

"Honestly Ginny!" Then taking a deep breath Hermione asked, "I don't suppose that Brian has contacted you, has he?"

Ginny's brows rose and she frowned at her friend. So this wasn't a social call after all, she had suspected as much. "No. Should he have done?"

"Well, I'm not sure," came the hesitant response.

"Go on, let's hear it," Ginny sighed a feeling of resignation sweeping through her. The laughter of a moment ago was gone to be replaced by a familiar knot of tension which had lodged beneath her ribs.

"Of course it could be nothing, but he's accusing Elizabeth Greengrass of setting him up," the older woman gabbled, clearly nervous.

"How do you mean?"

"It was in the Prophet this morning, how she'd put an enchantment on him. Apparently he and a few friends went out for drinks one night and met her and some of her friends at the Nightshade club. He's accused her of putting something into his drink. No doubt he didn't like the pictures of them splashed all over the Prophet a few days ago."

"Yeah, but how does that concern me?" Ginny asked perplexed.

"Well, according to the article, he wanted to get back with you but he's worried that this debacle maybe have scuppered his chances. If you ask me, he's trying to get the press and public on his side."

Ginny groaned. "That's all I need, the press hounding me."

There was a rustle at the window and she looked up to see a tawny owl flutter through. It circled her, then dropped a letter on to her lap before flying out again.

"What's that?" Hermione asked, eyeing the rolled parchment with interest.

"Dunno," Ginny replied shrugging. Her eyes fell on the crest stamped in to the wax seal and she sighed. "Actually, on closer inspection I do, it's the Zabini coat of arms."

"Really?" Hermione peered at the letter, her worried frown replaced by an expression of curiosity. "Well, go on, open it then."

Ginny pulled at the seal and it gave way. Unrolling the creamy parchment, she saw Blaise's neat writing covering it.

"Well, what does it say?" an impatient Hermione prompted craning her neck to no avail to get a look at the letter.

Ginny read out loud:

'Ginny,

A few of us plan to visit the Fork Tongue Cavern this evening and I hope you can join us.

The Cavern is an excellent club in Barbados and definitely worth a visit. Be ready at 9 as we're meeting in the hotel reception from where we'll travel by portkey to the club.

If I don't hear from you, I'll assume you're coming.

Blaise'

"He doesn't sound too bothered one way or the other if you go or not," Hermione grumbled. "It wouldn't kill him to say that he'd like your company."

"That, my dear sister-in-law," Ginny drawled, "is because he doesn't give a toss one way or the other. There'll probably be a big group of us and he's asking just to be polite."

"Will you go?"

Ginny considered, then nodded.

"I don't see why not, I've nothing else to do."

"Well be careful," Hermione instructed and Ginny rolled her eyes. "Take some sobering potion, and a portkey to get back to the hotel. Some contraceptive potion probably won't go amiss either. "

"Thanks for the advice," Ginny grinned, folding the note and stuffing it into her pocket. "It promises to be a good evening, a shame you can't come along." She glanced at the clock above the fireplace and jumped. "Talking about time, I'd better go. Give my love to everyone."

Their goodbyes said, she watched Hermione's head disappear and the flames die, leaving the grate empty.

XoXoXoZo

A group of around fifteen people were congregated by the reception desk and Ginny hurried across to join them. She was pleased to recognise a few familiar faces; Tom Shelton who had played on her team in the Quidditch match a few days ago, and Cheryl one of the hotel receptionists. Also there, wearing a haughty expression and an outfit that left very little to the imagination, was the unforgettable referee, Melina.

On Seeing Ginny, Cheryl detached herself from the group and came over.

"Wow, you look good," she said appraising Ginny's yellow skirt and strappy top. "Ready to hit the Cavern?"

"You also look nice," Ginny complemented, surveying Cheryl's skin tight trousers and top. "I've never been, is it good?"

"Dunnow, Tom and the others say it is, we can check it out tonight."

"How do we get there?" Ginny enquired as a few more people entered the reception area and came over to them.

"His lordship's providing a portkey," Cheryl told her as Blaise swaggered through the doors carrying a large flat rock. "Merlin he's gorgeous don't you think?"

"If you go for that type," Ginny replied dryly, unmoved by his lithe form clad in leather trousers.

Cheryl opened her mouth to protest but Blaise, with a quick glance round at the group, waved a hand for quiet, silencing her.

"Gather round everyone, and grab the portkey which activates in a minute. We'll end up in a secluded alley behind the club which you can use to apparate home. The portkey will come back at 1 as I've got an early start tomorrow. Let's go."

The group surged forward and Ginny pressed a finger to the rock Blaise held out.

Soon she felt the familiar tug behind her naval as the portkey activated and hoped the ride wasn't too long. A minute or so later, she staggered sideways as they hit a concrete floor.

Straightening her flimsy skirt, she looked around her. They were standing in an alley way behind a large two story building and lighted windows glimmered above them in the semi darkness.

"Come on," called Blaise leading the way out into the street. Ginny and Cheryl followed the chattering group and soon they were being ushered into a dark dimly lighted club. She noticed that they seemed to have queue jumped.

"Let's get rid of our wraps," Cheryl said leading the way down the corridor to a bustling cloakroom. They handed over their gauzy shawls to busy attendants and entered the main part of the club.

It was nothing like Ginny had ever encountered. Dim wall and ceiling lights played over the mass of dancers, casting elongated shadows onto the walls and surrounding fittings. It looked as though the walls were hewn from jagged rocks which reflected the lights above them. A marble bar ran along one wall with at least twelve attendants busily serving customers. Small tables which seemed to be made of stone lined the sides of the huge room and they went across to one of these. A band was visible on a dais at the end of the room, playing modern jazz and Ginny longed to get out on to the floor.

Before she had sat down, there was a tap on her shoulder. An afro-Caribbean man stood behind her smiling and nodding to the filling dance floor and accepting his outstretched hand, they joined the dancing couples. They were soon dancing to the pounding beat which made the floor vibrate and she began to enjoy herself as she was expertly twisted and manoeuvred between the other couples. Soon the dance had ended, and another man had taken the place of the first. She was whirled round the floor by a succession of partners who were intent on enjoying themselves, some from the island and others whom she supposed to be muggles.

Ginny couldn't remember the last time she had felt so carefree and lost track of time. She was determined to enjoy every moment of the evening. This was exactly what she needed to raise her spirits. She couldn't remember going so long without having her feet trodden on and was relishing the sensation of having good dance partners. The song ended and she stepped back only to feel a tap on her shoulder. Tom was grinning at her.

"May I?" he called above the music, and returning his grin, she stepped into his arms.

"This is brilliant," she called in a breathless voice as he twirled her round the floor.

"The Caribbean has the best clubs and dancers in the world," he grinned back, teeth shining in the dim light. "You do realise that you've been dancing for two hours now?"

"I can't have, we only just got here," she protested with a shake of her head.

The song ended, and Tom was elbowed aside by Blaise who placing a hand in the small of her back led her into the next dance, his grip light and impersonal.

"I hope you're enjoying yourself," he called above the thudding beat and she nodded happily.

"It's wonderful, and you're all such good dancers!"

"We aim to please," he quipped as they passed Cheryl dancing with another of their party.

Soon his place was taken by someone else and she began to feel tired and thirsty.

When the next song ended, she excused herself, and feeling in need of a drink, made her way off the floor and over to the bar. Purchasing a large gin and tonic, she made her careful way over to their table. With a greatful sigh, she sat down and took a long drink.

"So, finally run out of partners?" Taunted a malicious voice in her ear and she turned.

Melina was scowling as she took the seat beside Ginny.

"I'm shattered," Ginny smiled, determined not to be unpleasant. "How come you're not dancing?"

This was obviously the wrong thing to ask as Melina's lip curled. "What, with muggles? Hardly!"

"Well, someone from our party then," Ginny suggested, wriggling her toes in their three inch heals to try and relieve the ache in them. The cushioning charm must be wearing off.

"I haven't been asked by anyone in our party," Melina hissed. "You though, seem to be available to all, but then what can one expect from the likes of you?"

A flicker of annoyance went through Ginny but she pushed it away.

"Indeed," she said mildly.

Melina scowled some more, then burst out, "What is there between you and Blaise?"

Ginny watched the dancers gyrating to the beat as she contemplated her answer. Blaise she saw was dancing with a tall blonde muggle woman. No doubt he had asked every woman in their party other than Melina, to dance. She felt slightly sorry for the older woman who was obviously besotted with a man who didn't give a toss about her.

"Absolutely nothing, why?" she replied casually.

"But you want there to be." Melina snarled.

"No thanks," Ginny surveyed her coolly. "I find that arrogance is such a turn off."

"He's not arrogant!"

"As you like. Either way, I don't like him and never will. Now if you'll excuse me…"

She got up and ignoring the invitations to dance by a few men at another table, slipped from the room. She wanted to cool down and the only place to do that was the ladies.

To her relief, the opulent room was empty. She gazed at her flushed face in the mirror and taking another look round, surreptitiously cast a cooling charm on herself. She leaned back in her chair savouring the peace of the quiet room. For a muggle club, this was very good, and nothing like the tightly packed clubs in London which she usually visited. She was amazed to see that well over 2 hours had passed since they had come to the club, no wonder she had felt in need of a drink. Melina's malicious words of a few moments ago played through her mind and she wondered why the other woman was so sure that Blaise wanted her. It was by no means the first time their names had been linked and Ginny was growing weary of the knowing looks cast her way every time Blaise was mentioned in her hearing. The unease she had felt on the day of the quidditch match gripped her again, and not for the first time, she wished that she was in England. There at least she could control her own environment and all that went on in it.

Then there was that wizarding debt she owed Blaise. Again she cursed her own stupidity for not keeping a closer watch on the air currents of the island. She had no doubt that he would use the debt to his own advantage whenever he needed to, probably to make her suffer in the most humiliating way possible. Opening her evening bag, she took a sip of the sobering potion she had bought with her, and getting up, she prepared to leave the cool room for the club. This wasn't the time for introspection and she was determined to enjoy herself tonight.

The corridor was dim and she looked round her in interest, noticing for the first time the sign for the cocktail bar. Curiously she made her way to the bar and found it to be a smaller room with hundreds of brightly coloured bottles ranged on shelves behind the bar. Small groups of people were standing round knocking back noxious looking concoctions and she glanced round for a face she knew.

"Ginny, over here," a giggly Cheryl called, waving at her.

Ginny saw that she and a few others from their party were busy sampling cocktails while perching rather precariously on bar stools.

"What are you doing?" Ginny asked going across to them.

"Trying cocktails of course, and seeing who can get smashed first," Cheryl informed her with a grin, as she placed her glass on the table with a hand that was not quite steady.

"How about 'the Spiff'?" Ralph, a dark eyed man around Ginny's own age suggested, waving at the cocktail the barman was mixing.

"What's it made of?" Ginny asked warily, eyeing the dark liquid with interest.

"2 parts vodka, one part gin, and one part pineapple juice," he slurred. "Go on, bet you can't drink it down in one go."

Never one to back away from a challenge she glared back. "Bet I can," she tossed her head, taking the shot glass from the expressionless barman. She gulped the liquid and tried not to choke as it burned its way down her throat.

"I'm impressed," Lenny, another member of their party whom she had met on her first night on the island, conceded. "Say, what happened about your smashed engagement ring?"

"Nothing, we split up," she replied vaguely, studying the list of cocktails with interest.

How about 'Beach Wander'?" she suggested. "It looks interesting.

The others nodded, and each took a glass of the frothing liquid composed of Gin, lime juice, and a dash of whisky.

"Not bad," Lenny said eyeing the two women who were trying not to cough as they swallowed the drink. "Bet you can't manage a glass of neat whisky."

"I don't like the taste of neat whisky," Cheryl complained.

"We'll flavour it with peach juice," Ginny giggled, warmth flooding through her as she nodded at the barman.

After their seventh cocktail Ginny knew she should stop. The sobering potion was good, but not that good. She leaned against the bar, feeling woozy and extremely happy.

"Let's try the 'Booming bomber'." Ralph indicated the brightly coloured liquid being knocked back by another customer.

Ginny and Cheryl choked as they downed the drink and if it weren't for the sobering potion she had taken, Ginny thought she would probably have collapsed then and there. These cocktails were the strongest she had ever tried and she had been to some of the best cocktail bars in Britain.

"I hate to think how much this will all cost," she giggled putting down her glass with an unsteady hand.

"His lordship's picking up the bill of course!" Cheryl told her brightly. "That's why we can get smashed without worrying."

"You know he's such a git," Ginny slurred. "All galleons and no brains!"

"But a rich git," Ralph sniggered, failing to stifle a hiccup.

"And a handsome one," Cheryl sighed. "He hasn't danced with Melina all night, isn't that funny?"

"Why did she come anyway?" Lenny complained. "He told Angus he was through with her."

"Shall we go back to the dance floor?" Ginny asked Cheryl, in a none too clear voice. Talk of Melina and Blaise was making her feel irritable.

"Best take some sobering potion first," Cheryl giggled, fumbling with her bag. "I hope the romantic hour hasn't started yet."

"The what?" Ginny asked fumbling with her own bag with little success.

"It's when they play romantic music," a smirking Ralph told her with a drunken leer. "Time to get really up close to your partner, if you know what I mean." He waggled his hips to illustrate his point.

With difficulty, they each took a gulp of potion. Slowly, the world clarified itself and Ginny stood straighter as the effects of the alcohol were lessoned.

"Right, let's go," she announced leading the way out of the room, her walk steady.

The dance floor was only slightly less packed than before and as she edged round it, she wondered if it had been a good idea to come in here. A breath of fresh air would have been a lot more useful to her befuddled brain. The music was slower than before and by the way couples seemed glued together, she assumed the romantic hour Cheryl had mentioned was well in progress. The whole atmosphere was different, more sultry and languorous and a complete contrast to the beauty music that had been playing when she had danced before. Couples moved languidly around the floor, all wearing dreamy expressions of content.

"Shall we?" said a voice in her ear, and turning she saw Blaise holding out his hand.

She hesitated, torn, but it seemed that everyone else was also dancing. "Go slowly," she advised, stepping into his arms. "I reckon I've had one cocktail too many."

At that point the tempo of the music changed again, becoming even slower and sultry. A blues number she didn't know was being sung and Blaise guided her round the floor, seemingly not noticing her stumbling movements.

She tried to get her feet to obey her brain but recognised dimly that the amount of alcohol pumping through her system wasn't helping. Although the sobering potion had made a good job of clearing most of her senses, her limbs felt slightly numb and it was more difficult to direct her feet. She winced inwardly as she trod heavily on his foot and hoped fervently that he hadn't noticed her less than co-ordinated progress.

"Sorry," she muttered blushing, "I'm not usually so clumsy."

"Think nothing of it," he smiled, tightening his arm round her so as to better guide her. He took his other hand from hers, and brushed back the tendrils of hair which had escaped her bun and were clinging to her neck.

Ginny glanced round and saw Cheryl dancing cheek to cheek with Ralph. Both looked a bit worse for wear and their progress around the floor was erratic to say the least. Clearly they too were feeling the effects of the cocktails they had downed. It was a good job the floor was emptying or they would have stepped on many an unsuspecting foot.

"It's been a good night," Ginny smiled, vaguely aware of Blaise's fingers probing the juncture of her neck and right shoulder.

He didn't answer so she watched Ralph and Cheryl bumble around the floor. As long as Blaise didn't bump her into something, she wasn't worried. She felt her back hit a wall and leaned against it. Clearly, Blaise wasn't as sober as she had first supposed. He leaned on her, body bent so that his head was almost touching her shoulder. Bracing herself against the wall for support, she frowned, taking hold of his waist to steady him.

"Go easy," she said, "I hadn't realised that you were also drunk."

He merely pushed her head to the side exposing the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Lowering his head, his mouth touched the spot and she gave an exasperated sigh, resolutely ignoring the pleasurable sensation that ran up her neck at the contact. Brilliant, this was all she needed, for him to collapse on her. The idiot probably wasn't aware of what he was doing.

It was a good job she thought hazily that she had drunk so much, her numbed senses meant that she couldn't feel the pain of his weight against her – he was a lot bigger and heavier than she.

Ginny glanced over Blaise's shoulder, trying to catch the eye of another of their party to help her prop him up but all seem to be dancing. She paid no attention to Blaise whose concentration was focused on her neck.

Again, he kissed and lick the spot. Then she felt his teeth graze her neck, and winced slightly as he bit down puncturing the skin.

Annoyance masked the odd feeling in her shoulder as though a cold liquid had entered her bloodstream. She put the feeling down to numbness due to his weight. The man was clearly as pissed as a newt and taking his vampiric tendencies out on her. She was tempted to give him a good slap but suspected it would have very little effect other than to make her wrist ache. Instead she pushed against him, and to her surprise, he straightened, looking down at her through glazed eyes.

"You're right, it's a lovely evening," he grinned. "Come on, let's dance some more. Our portkey activates soon."

"Are you ok Zabini?" she asked tentatively, peering into his eyes which now seemed clear and focused.

"Fine, why?" he asked steering her away from the wall and into the throng of dancers.

"What just happened to you? I thought you were drunk."

"Well, we've all had a bit to drink, show me someone who hasn't in this place," he smiled as they passed an entwined couple leaning against a pillar, kissing.

"Yes, but you went all funny, I was practically holding you up."

"Hardly," he drawled, "I'd crush you if I leaned my weight on you."

She shook her head, knowing that it would be pointless carrying on this discussion. He probably wasn't aware of having bitten her either!

"I think I'll go home," she said, stifling a yawn.

"Good, our portkey activates in," he checked his watch, "5 minutes."

"No thanks, I've got a portkey of my own which activates when I touch it," she declined annoyed and yawned again, unable to understand why she felt so tired all of a sudden.

They moved towards the doors and into the corridor where the air was much cooler. Others of their party were following them, most wearing the bemused expressions of people who had consumed more alcohol than a sobering potion could cope with.

"Don't be silly," he said following her out to the cloak rooms. "We'll all be going back now. It doesn't make sense for you to go alone."

She nodded, and couldn't be bothered to argue. Collecting her wrap she came out to see Cheryl leaning heavily against Ralph, and was prepared to bet they'd spend the night together.

"Come on everyone," Blaise said taking Ginny's arm and ushering her out into the cool night air. "We'll go to the alley in which we arrived, it'll provide enough cover."

Ginny stumbled along beside him, the night air not doing anything to dispel both the alcohol induced fog, and the sudden tiredness which was engulfing her.

She grasped the flat rock tightly when Blaise held it out and hoped the ride wouldn't upset an already tenuously balanced stomach.

"I feel sick," one of the other women groaned as the portkey activated and they were sped away.

Soon Ginny's feet hit the floor and if it weren't for Blaise's steadying arm round her waste, her legs would have given way. Blinking, she recognised the dimly lit hotel foyer and was glad to be back. She swiftly detached herself from Blaise and saying a brief goodnight, went upstairs. In her suite, she threw off her clothes and climbed into bed, her exhaustion getting the better of her.

XoXoXoXo

Her hand shook slightly as Ginny again examined the mark on the juncture of her shoulder and neck. Peering into the mirror, she surveyed the darkened skin for what felt like the fiftieth time that day, unease gripping her. It was unlike anything she had ever seen, being comprised of two lines to form an uneven star. Whenever she pressed the spot, goose bumps and a feeling of depression swamped through her and she knew instinctively it was magical in origin.

She paced her room wondering, as she had been all day, what to do. It was possible that it was no more than a love bite but having had more than her fair share of those, she knew it wasn't. For a start, it didn't look or feel like a bruise. Then there was the fact that love bites could be got rid of with a well placed healing charm and so far this mark hadn't responded to any healing, or glamour charms that she knew. It just wouldn't go. In the end she had covered it up with muggle foundation in a desperate attempt to hide it from view but it was still there. She had never heard of any such mark, increasing her apprehension.

She thought back to the events of the night before, but the moment when Blaise had bitten her or whatever he had done, was hazy in her mind. All she could remember was the slight numbness which had succeeded the bite, but she had thought nothing of it. Looking back, she realised that it was probably some substance which had entered her bloodstream resulting in the mark. Whether it was harmful was a question she didn't want to think about but had to. Again she cursed herself for getting so drunk and not paying more attention to what had been going on around her.

There was a hospital on the island that she could ask for advice, but she was loathed to do this. They would want to know exactly how she had got the mark or whatever it was, and she shrank from telling them. Of course she could ignore it, but an overdeveloped horror of strange phenomenon thanks to the events of her first year at Hogwarts wouldn't let her. She could think of only one thing to do and taking a deep breath, she threw a pinch of flu powder into the hearth and thrusting her head into the flames, called, "Green Lawns."

Soon her head stopped spinning and she looked out into what looked like a library. She could make out Persian rugs scattered over a wooden floor and a few deep leather armchairs.

"What is you wanting?" a house elf asked irritably, moving forward into her line of vision. It seemed to be the only being in the room and Ginny sighed.

"Is Blaise home?"

"The master is away on business," came the kurt response.

Ginny swore softly at this news. From the impassive expression on the elf's pinched face, it seemed the house elves were regularly asked this question by love sick females and her annoyance grew. Then she asked, "Fine, how about Adriana? Is she home?"

"Who is you?"

"My name is Ginny Weasley," she gritted out irritably, half wishing she hadn't bothered making the call. It seemed more aggravation than it was worth.

To her surprise, the elf nodded, scrambling up with alacrity. "Finnie is sorry Miss. If Finnie is knowing who you is, I is fetching the mistress straight away," It gabbled, bowing and twisting agitated fingers in the tea-towel it wore. "I isn't being long," and left.

Ginny ignored the elf's change in manner, being too preoccupied with her own thoughts. She waited impatiently wondering what she was going to say to Blaise's mother. She hadn't bargained on not finding him at home and was tempted to end the call before the other woman could appear.

The sound of heels on the polished floor put pay to this idea and Adriana's well shod feet came into sight.

"Ginevra," she beamed, kneeling down before the fireplace and smiling widely. "It is nice to see you."

"I'm sorry to disturb you," Ginny began feeling awkward, "but is Blaise home? I need to ask him something."

Adriana's face fell. "No, I am sorry. He had to go to one of the neighbouring islands on business. He should be home soon though. Maybe I can help?"

"Thanks but no. I just wanted to ask him something but it isn't important," Ginny said hurriedly wishing to get the conversation over with.

"That is a shame, are you sure?"

"Oh yes," Ginny nodded emphatically. "Sorry for disturbing you."

"Not in the least, I was planning to come by the hotel to see you anyway," Adriana smiled. "How about coming to Green Lawns for dinner? Blaise is not home so it will just be us. We can pamper ourselves, without male interference. You can stay the night!"

Smiling politely Ginny shook her head, her mind made up. "It's really nice of you to offer, but I must decline. "

"But I have seen nothing of you these past days. This would be the perfect opportunity to get to know one another better."

"I've work to get through this evening and to be honest I'm still feeling the effects of last night's drinking session," Ginny excused.

"I hear it was a good night out," Adriana commented, eyes glinting. "You must have been tired when you got back."

"I was absolutely shattered and slept for fourteen hours straight." Ginny grimaced. "I don't know what came over me."

"Any other side effects of the evening?" Adriana asked with seemingly casual interest and Ginny started.

Did she know something? It was possible that the question had been posed in all innocence but one evening in the older woman's company had convinced Ginny that all she did had an underlying motive.

Ginny shook her head, adopting a bright smile which belied her inner turmoil. "Oh no, a good hangover potion took care of the rest. I'd better go. Thanks for your time."

"Of course, well if there is anything I can do, you only need ask. I will of course let Blaise know you were looking for him," Adriana replied, not quite managing to hide her curiosity.

Ginny nodded. "Bye then." She pulled her head from the flames and sat back, thinking.

As far as she could see, there was only one option left open to her. She had to find out what the mark on her neck was for her own peace of mind, and suspected that Blaise would not have told her even if he had been home.

The mark was an embarrassment as much as anything else but she had an uneasy feeling it was more than it looked. Maybe a hex that was working its way through her bloodstream? She had often come across people being cursed in creative ways during the war, which taught her that it was best not to take chances and get the matter sorted as soon as possible.

She could go to the hospital on the island which was local and shouldn't take long to reach. But would they know what the mark was? Also, it was a bit too local and she wasn't sure how much she trusted their confidentiality. The last thing she wanted was for Blaise to find out that she had noticed and was worrying about the mark. As far as she knew, the next closest wizarding hospital was on Cuba, the Cuban Care Trust for Magical Folk. Cuba was a much larger island than Ethosa and hopefully it would provide the anonymity she would need to get things checked out discreetly.

She glanced at the clock, it was 5:30. If she hurried, she should be able to see a healer that day. She hesitated, then gathered up all her travel and other documents and stuffed them into a pocket. They may be required in Cuba. She went swiftly downstairs and to the apparating chamber in which she had arrived. Thankfully she met no one. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and disaparated to a location she knew nothing of.

Slowly, she opened her eyes and peered round her. One thing was for sure, she was no-longer on Ethosa. She was standing behind a carved stone statue of a dark skinned man, which stood at one side of a tree-lined square. In the middle of the square, a fountain gurgled, and muggle children played round it. Adults sat chatting on brightly painted benches round the fountain, while shops lined three sides of the square.

Unsure where she was, Ginny started walking towards the nearest shop which seem to sell muggle holiday items, sun glasses, large sun hats and umbrellas. People bustled all around her and she moved along, hoping to see the hospital soon. She knew that she had aparated to the right place so it shouldn't be too far away. A warehouse standing in the corner of the square caught her attention and she threaded her way towards it. The windows were grimy and she noticed that the muggles were barely glancing at it as they hurried past. Knowing she had found the right place, she leaned against the window and as with St Mungos, slid quietly through it, emerging in a large and busy reception area.

People jostled each other in orderly cues, while healers dashed about, administering potions and advice. Ginny could see that most of the witches and wizards around her were holiday-makers in varying states of distress. The room was large and well lit by daylight, and an atmosphere of calm efficiency prevailed.

Swiftly she made her way to the 'tourist enquiries' desk and filled in the form an efficient looking wizard handed her, deliberately not giving her real name. It was best not to take chances after all.

He scanned the form she handed back and nodded.

"Strange mark on your neck? Probably a bite from an unusual creature, nothing to worry about – you're not the first. Sit over there and a healer will call you."

Feeling relieved at his casual attitude, she sat down and picked up a Cuban fashion magazine which she perused whilst watching the activity around her. The Cuban healers she noticed wore bright red robes and were moving up and down the rows of people asking questions and busily taking notes with an unflappable efficiency that was soothing to watch.

"Jane Simmons?" a voice called and she looked up startled. A tall grey-haired healer was looking round, and Ginny hastily jumped up, making her way over to the woman.

"You're Jane Simmons?" the other asked and Ginny nodded. "Follow me then."

Ginny followed the upright healer down a corridor into a small room which held an examination couch, a desk and a small table on which stood several odd looking instruments.

"Please take a seat," the healer said waving Ginny to a chair by her desk. "I'm Liza Harwood, one of the Creature bites specialists. I understand there's a strange mark on your neck. Now have you any idea how you got it?"

Ginny took a deep breath and shook her head. She couldn't tell this woman the truth, she wasn't sure that she believed it herself it was so preposterous. "No, I'm sorry. All I know is that a few days ago I noticed it and it hasn't gone since and I'm starting to worry," she explained, hoping her explanation didn't sound too strange.

Liza viewed her thoughtfully, and then nodded. "Well, if you'd like to get on to the couch I'll take a look."

With a murmured scougrify, Ginny removed the foundation covering the mark, and then lay down on the unyielding couch, her back to the healer.

Liza said nothing as she examined the mark, prodding it with her wand and muttering spells. Then going over to her desk, she picked up a tweezer like instrument and came back to the couch.

"Now, tell me if you feel anything strange when I use this, anything at all," she instructed.

Ginny nodded curiously.

She felt the cold prongs of the instrument touch her neck, and the next moment there was a burning sensation on her shoulder and she winced.

"It's ok, Liza said removing the instrument, and making rapid notes on a clipboard hovering by her elbow. "I think that's told us what we needed to know."

Rubbing her shoulder, Ginny sat up. Liza had moved back to the desk where she was still writing. "Alright now?" she enquired, putting her quill down and surveying Ginny thoughtfully.

"Yes, but what was that thing?" Ginny asked resuming her seat by the desk.

There was a pause. Then Liza sighed. "It was a type of venom detector. They're not usually that good but in certain cases, they are invaluable."

"So you know what that mark on my neck is?" Ginny asked, feeling her heart speed up. Now maybe she would get some answers at last.

"Yes. Before I tell you however, I would like to know, if you feel you could tell me, who bit you and when?" the healer asked in a composed voice.

Ginny's mouth fell open and she swiftly shut it. "I well…I'd rather not go into that," she stammered taken aback and feeling the colour rushing to her cheeks.

"As you wish," Liza said her expression gentle. "Well, what I have to say may shock you but you've got to know."

Ginny nodded uneasily. So she had been right, it was some nasty hex that Zabini, damn him, had put on her. "It's not poison is it?" she burst out anxiously and Liza shook her head.

"No, I'm 100percent sure it isn't." She glanced down at her notes and looked up at Ginny. "What do you know about veela, Ms Simmons?"

Surprised, Ginny frowned. "The usual, they're creatures which are very rare. There aren't many full blooded veela left now. They've all married humans and the blood has been diluted out. Some families still have veela blood in them, like my sister-in-laws family for example but these are also rare. People from such families tend to be very good looking and attract the opposite sex like bees to a honey pot." She snorted in disgust at the thought.

"Indeed you're right on all counts," Liza confirmed soberly. "Anything else?"

"That's it really. It's stuff that's passed down in legend mostly." Ginny wondered what this had to do with her, but good manners held her tongue.

"I'm guessing that you're a pureblood?" Liza asked and Ginny nodded.

"Well as there's already veela blood in your family, you probably also know that one characteristic that's been passed down the generations and isn't well known at all is that male veelas and their descendents, have only one mate. One person they're destined to be with no matter what. Basically, they're sanity depends on finding and being with their mate and Merlin help anyone who harms her. If a veela or part-veela has a mate who is already married, the marriage has to be dissolved so the mate can be claimed. This is international law."

Ginny rolled her eyes irritably wishing the healer would get to the point. "Yes I know that, but it's so rare now days."

"Not as rare as you may think," Liza contradicted. "The thing is that when a veela or someone with Veela blood finds his mate, he marks her and that's where you come in."

"Excuse me?" Ginny asked her throat suddenly very dry.

"That mark on your shoulder is no ordinary mark. It's the first of the marks a veela or part-veela gives his mate," the healer informed her matter of factly.

Ginny found her leg and gave it a good pinch. The resulting pain assured her that she was awake and definitely not dreaming.

"I beg your pardon?" she said faintly, thinking she couldn't have heard right.

Liza's expression was sympathetic as she looked into Ginny's white face. "It's true, that mark is a veela mark, there's no doubt about that. I've seen a fair few in my time. To make sure, I put a bit of another male's  
DNA on your skin and it pained you, a classic sign."

"But it can't be," Ginny denied faintly. "He'd never, not to me. Hell, he doesn't even like me! I didn't even know that he had veela blood…."

"Most mates don't," Liza agreed. "Look, it's not all bad, he whoever he is, will cherish you above all others, your word is his command, surely that's a good thing?" She gave a cheerful smile which had no effect on Ginny.

"No, it isn't," Ginny snapped. "I want nothing to do with him, never did."

"But my dear, it's not your decision to make. This is something which is determined at birth, neither of you have any say in it. I know it's hard, but the quicker you accept, the better it will be for both of you."

Ginny looked at the healer for a long moment, her mind whirling. Clearly there had been some mistake somewhere along the line, but arguing with Liza about the mark was proving fruitless. The main thing was that it wasn't poisonous or carrying a dangerous curse. She decided that her best bet was to get out of here and have a good think in peace.

"So, what now?" she asked, ignoring Liza's words and adopting a neutral expression which belied her real thoughts.

Liza's expression sobered immediately and she sighed. "I'm not sure. See the thing is that it's different for each family, a closely guarded secret you might say. "

Ginny shook her head, her exasperation getting the better of her. "Look, I'll say it again, there's been a mistake, it happens to the best of us. As long as the mark isn't dangerous, I'm happy."

"Ms Simmons, there is no mistake. I have been a healer for over fifty years and have seen a number of marks such as yours. I've studied them in some depth. Please believe me that the mark you carry is the first of the mating marks. Your best course of action is to accept it."

"And if I don't want to accept it?" Ginny asked defiantly, her eyes flashing. "He can't make me after all."

"My dear, you don't have a choice," the healer said patiently. "You are his means of survival so to speak. Without you, his life will be a half life, and eventually he'll commit suicide."

"But he may have bitten me by accident," Ginny argued, jumping up and striding about the small room. "I mean there were lots of us at that nightclub, what's to say he didn't get the wrong woman? Merlin knows he was pissed enough. He practically leaned his whole weight on me when he…" she jabbed at her shoulder.

"His pheromones will have told him exactly which witch to mark. It takes a lot of concentration to deliver that mark, getting the right woman would have been the first thing he will have checked. I suspect that he was stone cold sober. He couldn't have done it otherwise." Liza's expression was still gentle. "The best thing you can do is to talk to this young man and get him to explain everything to you. Only then can you make any sense of it."

Ginny made a sound of disgust. "No thanks, I'd rather eat a piranha than spend time with that idiot!"

"You may not get any choice in the matter," Liza said shortly, getting up and opening the door of the consulting room. "The best of luck to you." She didn't think she could say anything else at this stage to change the girl's attitude.

Ginny said nothing as she reapplied the foundation to the mark to cover it up. She just wanted to get out of there and be alone!

Liza watched Ginny's angry form march across the reception area and frowned. The girl hadn't a clue what she was dealing with and judging by her reaction just now, didn't want to know. Liza hoped that she would accept her fate quickly, both for her sake and that of the young man who had given her the mark. She knew only to well that there were only five families within a thousand mile radius with veela blood. Of these, only two had young men who had not found their mates, Robert Walters and Blaise Zabini. Both were good-looking, wealthy and eminently suitable, a good catch for any girl. She didn't relish the little redhead's chances of avoiding whichever of the two it was, but suspected that it would be a long and tortuous road ahead for her and the one who had given her that mark. Maybe she would speak to her husband to find out more. After all, She had been in the same position as the girl fifty-three years ago.


End file.
